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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28014906">Origins of a Star - an Autobot Academy Story</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stonecrusher/pseuds/Stonecrusher'>Stonecrusher</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Transformers - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Autobot Academy Universe, Gen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-05-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 21:14:03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>36,353</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28014906</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stonecrusher/pseuds/Stonecrusher</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A story of heroes and villains always has a beginning. This is the origin of the greatest hero of Cybertron's history, and its greatest enemy...</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. PROLOGUE</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Written by Nemesis Scar and Stonecrusher</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
            <em>Deep within the galaxy we know, there are many worlds where technology has overrun nature and given rise to machines what are more or less as sentient as any organism. Lithone, Pheros, Gobotron, Mondas, Chapek, the names of a thousand planets affected by the Machine Singularity have been burned into the minds of a hundred-thousand civilizations. Cautionary tales born of a need to exercise restraint or to learn to treat machines with the respect of a true lifeform. But there is one machine-world so mysterious in its origin, so advanced, and so much like true biospheres that it broke the line between biological and technological.</em>
          </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
            <em>This world is known as Cybertron, and although the people of the world proudly carry the title “Cybertronian,” there is another name much more ubiquitous, yet confined to whispers and worried messages – “Transformers.”</em>
          </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
            <em>Cybertron is regarded well throughout the cosmos – much of their technological advancements have made it throughout the galaxy, benefitting the people of the greater community, and Cybertron itself serves as a major trading hub for many civilizations and alliances, between the Galvan Alliance, the Shadow Proclamation, the Solstar Order, and a hundred others.</em>
          </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
            <em>But this was not always the case.</em>
          </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
            <em>Once upon a time, in an age long ago, Cybertron was embroiled in a conflict with a rogue colony, an enemy of its own creation – Combatron, a world first colonized to produce warriors, that turned against its motherworld for its own selfish desires. The conflict raged across the galaxy, wiping out many innocent civilizations and giving the species a reputation that even a thousand aeons later remains, even in only small echoes of doubt.</em>
          </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
            <em>Some say that Cybertron has grown above that, that they’ve aspired to become better.</em>
          </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
            <em>Other, more pragmatic voices, worry that history is cyclical, and it only needs a little push to get the gears turning once more…</em>
          </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>The blue of night shrouded the Celestial Spires and the High Council Pavilions. It was late, and decent folk had left the streets. From her perch on an abandoned balcony, a red fembot had a view that was both awe-inspiring and vertigo-inducing. To the east, she could see the Decagon, the ten-sided tower headquarters of the CDC. To the west was the Energon Pools, their waters (a rare thing on Cybertron) flowing. And to the immediate North was the domed Chamber of Ancients, her target.</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>Vaulting over the balcony railing and into the air before her, she felt her body’s internal systems shifting, her limbs retracting, her very shape changing until it transformed into her jet alt-mode. Her internal sensors reoriented themselves in an instant, and she blasted towards the Chamber in the distance. She was on a mission right now, and intent to see it fulfilled. To some, it would be an unforgivable blasphemy to even think of what she had in mind. To even contemplate this, to them, was treading on untold centuries of traditions. But Elita One had no time for the shouted condemnations of religious rabble-rousers. To her, justice was the highest calling. And justice would be dispensed in this hour.</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>Coming to a hover above the apex of the dome, she paused. A direct assault on the Chamber of Ancients was risky, but stealth was not exactly her forte. She shook these worries off just as fast as they presented themselves. Whatever foe she would face would fall before her. Whatever evil presented itself to her would be destroyed. Whatever resistance dared to stand in the way of her sacred mission would be dispatched, no matter the odds. She shifted once more into robot configuration, and she fell, landing on the dome’s outer rim. Her optical sensors looked through the window, sighting the gathering of cloaked individuals. These were the Council of Elders, an informal fraternal body of the planet’s best and brightest. Though she could not see the ‘mechs and femmes under the hoods, she knew for a fact that at least Sentius Baronus, Termagax, and Codexa were among their ranks. The Convoy stood amidst them, his orange armor immediately catching her eye. He was the target of this raid, and nobody else.</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>“And so ends our gathering for tonight,” Guard Convoy, the leader of Cybertron, spoke, although Elita only could understand due to her advanced lip-reading skills, “I thank you for joining me today.”<br/>
The cloaked figures parted, leaving for their own places. Elita kept a optic on Guard Convoy as he made his way to the back.<br/>
---<br/>
Guard Convoy soon exited the pavilion in a relatively isolated area, mostly lit only by the dim glow of the streetlights. He approached a nearby speeder transport, a form of transit mostly used by the rich and those too lazy to use their own alt mode… or at least, too important.</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>But before he could reach it, the lithe form of Elita landed in front of him, catching him off guard, grasping within her hands a small energy hammer.</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>“Guard Convoy,” She spoke, hammer high. “I have come to relieve you of the Matrix!” Her voice lowered to a venomous intonation “...You clearly have proven unfit for it.”</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>“By all means,” Guard Convoy sneered at her. Clearly, he was in no mood to give it up willingly to her. “Come, Elita.” He growled, unfolding his collapsible quarterstaff. “And take it.”</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>Leaping into action, Elita intended to do just that. With a mighty, savagely arcing swing of her hammer, she threw the Convoy off-balance. “Impressive.” He grunted as he doubled back in pain. “But you will be no match for the Elite Guard!”</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>The speeder’s doors popped open, allowing black-armored ‘mechs of a single, mass-produced body-type similar to that of the Autotroopers to emerge and surround her. Some wielded energo-foils, others bladed quarterstaffs. Others still held vibro-voulges. These were the Convoy’s Elite Guard, his praetorians and bodyguards. As one, the Elite Guard rushed forth to defend their master.</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>Elita ignored them. True, she ducked under a swing or two and retaliated with a few strikes of her own. But they were not her focus. Their master was behind them, and she had to go through them to get to him.</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>“Get out of my way!” Crying out in a loud voice, she thrust her shoulder forward and charged through the mass of the Elite Guard attempting to block her way.</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>The Elite Guard tumbled every which way, flying to the ground before her. Some took harder falls still, cracking their heads on the hard metal floor. They were dealt with as quickly as they had appeared.</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>Guard Convoy stood in front of her, stunned. “T-the E-elite Guard!” He spoke in a tremulous voice. “How could they be defeated?” The Convoy clearly didn’t expect this outcome.</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>“I win.” Thrusting an open hand forward amidst the fallen Elite Guard, Elita clearly expected the Matrix. The Convoy, for his part, was grudgingly opening his chest. He had no chance against her one-on-one. “Give it up.”</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>“Fine,” He sighed, his frametype reverting to the form he had before attaining. “But this isn’t the end of this, Elita.”</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>“I have no misconceptions of that,” Elita replied, tapping his head with just enough strength to force the former Convoy into Stasis Lock.</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>Free of witnesses, Elita transformed and jetted off into the night…</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. CHAPTER01</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A few years later, and the Cybertronian Commonwealth is a different place. The loss of the Matrix from the hands of Guard Convoy has led to a great degree of government instability. This has led to bureaucratic confusion on a massive scale, allowing political movements with goals that run counter to the common good to begin getting a foothold, some even gaining the ear of the once Convoy, now titled Sentinel Prime. According to the official stories, the Matrix had chosen to leave Guard Convoy, for his great deed has been done and the Matrix’s wisdom was no longer necessary. But the smart bots among the populous knew better.</p><p>One such political power that now held Cybertron under its thrall was the Omnicon Corporation of the distant colony of Messatine. A ice world dedicated to the mining of the life-giving Energon crystals and starship-fueling Nucleon prisms, Messatine was probably the biggest source of fuel within the Cybertronian Commonweath, with no other colony able to match its output. Some say this came at the cost of lives, and some authorities had been chomping at the bit to knock the colony down a peg.</p><p>The mine that had exploded was a good reason, but at the same time, the tragedy of it all still stung. None more so then the investigator sent by the Senate, Commander Checkpoint.</p><p>“No way we’re able to investigate this mine, sir,” A nearby Autotrooper drone stated, “Energon radiation is too intense.”</p><p>Indeed, one of the major mines that Messatine used in its operations had, for one reason or another, had a terrible accident – a massive explosion that ripped through the Energon veins and ignited the little Nucleon that remained. The resulting energon radiation could overwhelm a Cybertronian’s circuitry and cause a shutdown. How such a thing could have happened is a question with a large number of potential answers – lackluster miner hit a vein of energon the wrong way, demolition attempt gone horribly awry, thunderstorm hitting exposed crystals… but in the back of Checkpoint’s mind, one possibility remained at large – one miner got tired of his lot in life and decided to kneecap Messatine’s output by deliberately destroying the mine.<br/>This was an idea Checkpoint decided to keep to himself.</p><p>“How many survivors are there, right now?” Checkpoint asked.</p><p>“We’re currently aware of twenty-five miners that escaped the initial detonation,” The Autotrooper replied, “Including Foreman Rolt. They were lucky to be near the entrance and able to escape before the explosion overwhelmed them. Most of them are still suffering from Energon Burns, though.”</p><p>“Which means we have to wait until someone heals up before we can make inquiries,” Checkpoint squeezed the ridge of metal between his twin optic sensors with his servo-fingertips, “Which can be anywhere between three days and three months.”</p><p>“Sir…” the Autotrooper pointed, “We appear to have another bot on the scene.”</p><p>Checkpoint looked up. Indeed, there was another bot on the scene – a copter-bot by the looks of things. A very damaged copterbot.</p><p>“Vector Sigma!” Checkpoint shouted, uttering the name of a mythical database in disbelief, as the damaged copterbot made its way over to them, “Get a medic over here!”</p><p>The copterbot walked over to their direction with a surprising amount of haste in spite of their own damaged structure.</p><p>As they made their way to Checkpoint, their vocoder managed to choke out three words…</p><p>“Damn… you…Mega…”</p><p>And with that, the bot fell to their knees, then face planted into the snow-covered ground, their armor losing what little color remained…</p><p>---</p><p>But not every individual within the Cybertronian Commonwealth was fully embroiled in the political games nor were they interested in being so. Among them, thousands of lightyears away from the burning mine of Messatine, one was just stirring. A red-and-blue hauler-bot with a thin design, the biggest part of him being the twin wheels that jutted from his backplates just behind his shoulders.</p><p>Although he was among the elite of Iacon and was thus allowed a luxurious apartment that was cleaned daily by the service droids that zipped in and out of unoccupied spaces, he still found that the relative size of his movement area seems to fluctuate between big and small, due to the number of trinkets and solid history records he kept around… and also, his 'rent assistants,' or 'roommates' as they preferred.</p><p>His audials picked up the movement of one of these roommates, his heavy feet clunking on the ground unsteady in their movement and wavy in their conviction.</p><p>"Guess who was at one hell of a party~," he heard one down the hall.</p><p>"Let me guess, Dionysis?" the red one guessed.</p><p>"Yeah, you got it, Orion," the voice replied before a clunk noise signaled to the hauler that this Dionysis had passed out. Again.</p><p>The Hauler, Orion, emerged from his sleeping quarters to find Dionysis, an orange speeder-bot who he towered over, lying on the couch.</p><p>"Dion, we have talked about this," Orion shook his head, "You need to get back to your room if you want a proper recharge."</p><p>"You can't tell me what to do," Dionysis (Dion for short) murmured, "You're not my dad…"</p><p>Orion rolled his optics, "Dion, you're constructed cold. You don't even HAVE a dad."</p><p>"Whatever…"</p><p>Orion looked around, seeing no sign of the other roommate. Likely having already left for their own duties. What he did see was the chronometer reading 0830 hours since the start of the day - when Orion should be leaving for his job.</p><p>"Alright, I'm off to work, don't oversleep and miss your shift again," Orion announced as he departed, hearing Dion's faint "I won't" as he exited the room.<br/>---</p><p>Meanwhile, on Messatine, a pair of cyan optics scanned the files in front of him with an ever-growing dread.</p><p>
  <strong> <em>[MINE 132 – DESTROYED BEYOND REPAIR.</em> </strong>
  <br/>
  <strong> <em>CALCULATED ENERGON SALVAGE – NIL</em> </strong>
  <br/>
  <strong> <em>CASUALTIES – 1341 MINERS, 7 SUPERVISORS, 1 INVESTIGATOR</em> </strong>
  <br/>
  <strong> <em>ENERGON RADIATION LEVELS – 450% ABOVE LETHAL LEVELS.]</em> </strong>
</p><p>“This is a major tragedy,” the optics’ owner, a light-blue and dark-red mech who was the top of the Omnicon Corporation, going by the name Boreus, noted.</p><p>“On that, we can agree,” Checkpoint noted, “But at the same time, this could be a good first step for you.”</p><p>“Is that right?” Boreus asked, “How?”</p><p>“Well, with what we can gather from the information downloaded from what little remained of the central computers, most of the Miners here were identified by ID Codes rather than true names.”</p><p>“That’s a matter of pragmatism,” Boreus pointed out, “Trying to remember a thousand names is a major investment even with a computer. Ergo, we prefer to keep our computer space free for more imperative calculations by keeping ID codes. If the miners prefer to have names of their own, that is their choice.”</p><p>“I see,” Checkpoint looked at the datapad in his hand, “Nevertheless, Messatine’s attracted some controversy due to some recent files that have made their way to Cybertron. Some files containing some information that’s… hard to swallow, to borrow an organic idiom.”</p><p>“I’ve heard,” Boreus replied, “And admittedly, a good portion of those files are, in fact, based on some facts. But nevertheless, we’re trying our best to improve the situation here.”</p><p>“Well, that may be the case, but some of the accusations could net you some hefty fines,” Checkpoint noted, “If you’re not careful, you could be thrown from your position to a lower one before the next vorn.”</p><p>“I know that,” Boreus sighed, “Just… feel free to look more into such data as you see fit.”</p><p>“…I understand, sir,” Checkpoint replied, his optics drifting over to a photo on Boreus’s desk, “Say, is that a relative of yours?”</p><p>“My Daughter. Chromia. She’s only been online thirteen stellarcycles, but she’s shaping up to be a potent leader,” Boreus noted, “She’s thinking of joining the military, but I’ll be sure to push her down the right path.”</p><p>“Yeah, I got a kid that age as well. I wanted to call him Checkpoint Jr, but my Conjux called him Prowl,” Checkpoint noted, “And he certainly lives up to the name.”</p><p>“I wish you the best of luck with the young one,” Boreus replied.</p><p>“Same to you,” Checkpoint turned and walked out of the office.</p><p>Boreus sighed. The fines were certainly too great to ignore, and he felt the need to blow some steam.</p><p>Opening up a holoscreen, Boreus booted up a stream to the Gladiatorial Arena on Messatine. Some might say it’s a barbaric excuse for the wealthy to keep the lowborns quiet, but Boreus took a simple delight to seeing people fight. Brutal, sure, but certainly worth watching…<br/>Boreus’s optics narrowed. A new combatant was on the screen, currently taking on a Dinobot with a hammer and fairing poorly… but this bot looked familiar. A bodytype used by several miners… most prominently on Mine… no. It can’t be. He was stationed far enough in the mine that the explosion would have killed him…</p><p>But another look on that face, looking as desperate to win…</p><p>And Boreus KNEW.</p><p>“Computer, cancel all further appointments today,” Boreus spoke to the Central Control Computer.</p><p>&lt;CANCELLED&gt;</p><p>“Now… to finish what the mine apparently failed to do,” Boreus got up, exiting the office for what he failed to realize would be the final time.<br/>---<br/>As luxurious as a city like Iacon was, it still had minor problems - such as people crowding the street on their day to day business, forcing more polite bots like Orion to jump between the transport chutes and more conventional travel paths, but Orion had navigated this path many times before, and usually made good time, arriving at the Great Archive of Records and History, his workplace and the largest collection of information and history on the entirety of Cybertron, at 0855, less than ten minutes before his shift would begin.</p><p>"Ah, Good morning, Oron!" The mech sitting in the terminal at the front of the building greeted the archivist.</p><p>"It's Orion," Orion replied without delay.</p><p>"Alright, go on in," The mech tapped on the console and soon, the door opened, allowing Orion to enter, just as his shift began.</p><p>&lt;WELCOME, ORION PAX,&gt; Orion heard as the building's AI network tapped into his own headset, &lt;How may I assist you today?&gt;</p><p>"I'm just heading to the historical archive, I'll let you know if I need anything, GARHAI."</p><p>&lt;Understood. However, I think I should alert you that Trion is waiting for you to drop in.&gt;</p><p>This gave Orion pause. Alpha Trion was the highest commander of the Archives, a mech of many mysteries, said to be a member of the enigmatic Firstforged, the Thirteen Primes that gave Cybertron civilization. Of course, Orion knew from records he had seen that the story of the Firstforged was likely a corrupted myth with possible origins in the Quintesson Rebellion's leading council, but the sheer amount of time behind such a name still awed Orion regardless. Sharking his head back to reality, however, Orion made a quick beeline to Alpha Trion's office.</p><p>Which apparently meant a trapdoor in front of the official entrance, which took Orion by surprise. It seems that every time the two have to talk, Alpha had another tricky way to close the distance between the two, which lent itself well to the mysticism he had.</p><p>And the annoying streak he also had.<br/>---<br/>Boreus had made his way to the Arena complex mostly unguarded. Which suited him quite well. This was a move he had to make himself. Sneaking around was not exactly something he was used to, but nobody really was an expert at stealth in this day and age.</p><p>It took him twenty minutes before he finally found the former miner.</p><p>“Excavator D-16!” he announced to the mech in question.</p><p>Said mech turned.</p><p>Good. All the confirmation Boreus needed.<br/>---</p><p>When Orion landed in his chair, it was with a loud clunk and a bit of an explosion of strange particles, and the sound of an old mech forcing air through his front mouth vent in a strange way. An organic would call it a coughing noise, but for machines like these, it was a relatively rare phenomenon.</p><p>"So!" Alpha Trion managed to say between coughs, "You did drop in, after all, Orion!"</p><p>Orion merely gave a blank (or more specifically an 'I am so done with you') look as Alpha laughed at his own little joke.</p><p>"So, been a while, Trion," Orion got up off his chair and dusted off the particle mist, making a mental note to visit his joint cleaner at break just to be safe, "Where were you again?"</p><p>"A rather crazy place, my friend," Alpha replied, "and I've been seeing concepts and ideas with a strange and pragmatic beauty."</p><p>Looking around, Orion saw pieces of flattened plant matter (paper, if he remembered the word right,) decorated with a variety of shapes and designs.</p><p>"The civilizations of Solus Tri have been busy. Busy busy busy," Alpha hummed, "Take a look at this device! They manage to take the most basic chemical function of the entire galaxy, and they turned it into a rapid transit system with a kind of interesting twist. They call it a Steam Locomotive! Ain't that quaint?"</p><p>"Quite…" Orion rolled his optics, "Is there any other reason you brought me here, rather than the discussion of whatever civilizations you took your vacation with?"</p><p>"Now, now, Orion, isn't a friendly chat between two fellows a good enough reason?" Alpha replied.</p><p>Orion shrugged, "Maybe for when I'm not clocked in. But on the job, I imagine another reason."</p><p>There always was. Some new records, some rediscovered history, SOMETHING.</p><p>"I guess you are right to believe so," Alpha Trion sighed, "Long story short - the government has decided to bring in some… new blood. Guards, if you will."</p><p>There it was. Orion knew how things were under Sentinel's rule - with the disappearance of the Matrix of Light, the mech once known as Guard Convoy had been forced to take on the name of Sentinel Prime, and the uncertainty of the time bred into this age a sense of… caution. Even fear of the many voices that were speaking out against an Advisor of the Convoys, a Prime, leading. But Orion was not going to let such fears cripple him. Wasn't his style.</p><p>"Understood, Trion, but shouldn't this be formally announced in a group meeting?"</p><p>"I suppose it should, Orion, but Sentinel has stated he doesn't want to impose too much. He's making the choice to ease the program in," Trion sighed again, "He's assigned you to be the, *ahem* primary guide of the first guard."</p><p>Orion's optics widened. The life of a mere archivist and a protest rocker was rather simple in observation, but on the inside it was a delicate balance he had to maintain - and although the title was merely a 'guide,' Orion knew deep down that this first guard was meant not to guard the archive, but to monitor him specifically.</p><p>"I see," Orion said after a long pause.</p><p>"Indeed," Trion replied.</p><p>"When is this… first guard coming in?"</p><p>"Should actually be this morning, in fact."</p><p>Damn, not enough time to prepare. And Orion never was good at improv.<br/>---<br/>Autotroopers in this day and age were mostly security bots. It suited their design, having once been soldiers, but there was a certain… boredom that came to the forefront on slow days like these at the Arena.</p><p>“Primus, this arena’s so dull in the off-hours,” one such Autotrooper noted, as he patrolled the hallways of Messatine’s Gladiatorial Arena, “Sometimes I wish I could find a dead body just so I can report in.”</p><p>One turn later, and he got his wish.</p><p>The body was deftly perforated with cold spears of ice, placed all over the body and ripping through the vital components. The Autotrooper had at least gotten used to finding the rusted bodies of miners having died where they stood as their energon reserves dried out, and the body he found was as grey as they always were...</p><p>But this was not a miner’s body.</p><p>This was someone else’s.</p><p>This was Boreus.<br/>---<br/>At the entrance of the building, the Cargo Transport that had landed not minutes before loomed quite obviously, shadowing the approach of the three bots that approached. The two bots in front were decorated in the signature black and white color palette that had been the Autotrooper's bread-and-butter (pardon the unusual idiom) since their introduction during the days of Ginrai Convoy and the Age of Invasion, but the frontmost, a young femme deco'ed in the signature yellow, black, and teal of the Achillian Defense Company, who carried herself with grace and yet seemed unsure of the situation.</p><p>"Miss Ariel," The Autotrooper to the left of the femme spoke up, "You never specified the plan you had in mind."</p><p>"Oh, no, I never had a plan in mind. It's a simple job of making sure nobody breaks into the archives and such," Ariel replied, "I'm thinking of just letting the chips fall where they may."</p><p>"Seems a bit unwise, Miss Ariel," The right Autotrooper replied.</p><p>"Maybe, but considering everything, it's probably the better plan to take."</p><p>As they entered the building, they were greeted by the tall and imposing form of Alpha Trion and a much shorter archivist (about Ariel's height, give or take a few inches) approaching them.</p><p>"Ah, you must be the new security guard that the officials over at Iacon Tower sent us," Alpha Trion replied, smiling warmly.</p><p>"Alpha Trion," Ariel replied with an equally warm smile, "Hello again."</p><p>"May I introduce Orion Pax, my senior Archivist," Alpha gestured to the Archivist next to him.</p><p>"Secondary Senior Archivist, actually," Orion replied, "Dynastron is the Primary-Senior, but it's good to meet you regardless."</p><p>"Nice to meet you too," Ariel replied.</p><p>"Well, you two have met, and so I must be off," Alpha Trion turned and walked off.</p><p>"Well, uh, let me show you around," Orion replied, trying to restrain his rising anxiety about the entire situation.</p><p>"Sounds lovely," Ariel replied, "Lead the way."</p><p>---</p><p>"This is where we keep all historical records of Cybertron's many ages, categorized by age, era, time-frame, in both chronological and alphabetical order…"</p><p>Ariel reviewed her mission, mentally. On the surface, it was merely to guard the archive, but a strong emphasis was placed on keeping an eye on this particular bot. This confused Ariel now that she was looking at him.</p><p>"This is where we keep a record of every Cybertronian, from the lowest of miner-bots to the highest of Convoys… though between you and me most of the minor bots are only a few paragraphs long…"</p><p>It was clear that he was little more than a glorified data clerk, nothing truly interesting for observation. But Guard C- Sentinel Prime had personally asked her to keep him in check and in safe.</p><p>"This is where we look through records of the cosmos and try to understand the rise and fall of different planetary civilizations through observations of orbit…"</p><p>Why still eluded her. Was he a person of interest due to his position? Or was it deeper than that?</p><p>"…And this is where we keep records of all mechafauna that have at some point roamed this planet."</p><p>In Ariel’s mind, the job made no sense. But she was hired for it, and she will do it to the best of her ability. That was her choice.</p><p>"Fascinating. So, you keep records of literally everything here?" Ariel asked.</p><p>"Well, not exactly, such a feat isn't feasible." Orion replied, "But regardless, we try our best at it."</p><p>"So, what does an archivist do on a typical day?" Ariel asked.</p><p>"Well, on a normal day like this, we look through the archives for any information that is either assigned to us or catches our optic for whatever reason," Orion noted, "Typically, we look through a holorecord, try to see if we can catch anything that seems anomalous, and we take note of it, try to see what patterns arise from our notes or the notes of any other archivist, and interpret how that new information impacts history."</p><p>"I see… and how do you look through a 'holo-record?' How does it work?"</p><p>"That's a complicated process," Orion replied, "You familiar with Simultronics?"</p><p>This alarmed Ariel, "Those ghastly things?"</p><p>"Well… essentially, our methods were built using similar technology, but tested, refined, and meant not to induce brain damage and escape, but rather understanding of the world and expansion of knowledge," Orion replied, "Although, strictly speaking, the Simultronic was based off a hastily hacked-together knock-off."</p><p>"I… see… I'm sorry about the… caution," Ariel replied.</p><p>"Don't be. The tech isn't very widespread, and very few people know about it, so it makes sense to be… a little afraid," Orion noted, "But really, it doesn't have any stronger effect apart from a mild lull in consciousness after use, but you experience that after recharge, anyway."</p><p>"So, it's like a dream," Ariel replied.</p><p>"In a way," Orion shrugged, "Anyway, now that I've given you the tour, I probably should be getting to work."</p><p>"Understood. I'll just be patrolling the archives," Ariel replied, turning to exit the room before looking over her shoulder, "Catch you later, I hope."</p><p>Orion waved her off, and as Ariel turned out of sight, he sighed.</p><p>He had planned to look into a record, but something about what Ariel said really bugged him now…<br/>---<br/>Ariel, having completed her tour of the archives, set up a communications terminal. Plugging in a few custom encryption keys so the pesky security protocols don’t archive her reports, she dials up the call.</p><p>“This is Ariel, reporting in,” Ariel was the first to speak.</p><p>“Ah, Ariel!” The familiar voice of her commanding officer, Praesidia Magna, spoke up, “How was your first day on the job?”</p><p>“A bit…” Ariel began, but soon found herself lacking a good adjective, so she came to a new sentence, “It was fine. But I found some information that worries me a bit.”</p><p>“Such as?”</p><p>“Apparently the record-keepers utilize technology similar to the Simultronics to check their historical archives. I am a bit perturbed by this,” Ariel confessed.</p><p>“We’ve known about the Simultronics’ origins for quite some time now, probably should have brought it up before you took the assignment,” Praesadia noted, “But all of us make mistakes.”</p><p>“I am aware of this fact,” Ariel noted, “and I am worried that this assignment may be a mistake as well. Orion doesn’t strike me as being… well, anyone more than a standard archivist.”</p><p>“We’ve had the same thought process too. But our prediction programs indicate that the one who took the Matrix will be searching for a suitable heir from the mid level jobs of Iacon, and his activities may attract her attention.”</p><p>“And how would they know that?” Ariel asked, “Or is that question not in my pay rate?”</p><p>“…Truth be told, the programs are a mystery to us too. What makes Orion Pax of any note is beyond us… but they chose him among the candidates,” Praesadia replied, “Best we check every possible area.”</p><p>“Understood,” Ariel replied, “I’ll report back when I have further information.”<br/>---</p><p>
  <span>&lt;FLIGHT 405 to CYBERTRON, DEPARTING IN TEN MINUTES. PLEASE MAKE SURE ALL YOUR BELONGINGS ARE SECURE.&gt;</span>
</p><p>Her eyes glanced around at the sparsely seated passengers. All high-ranking officials or mid-ranking officers of some variety. A flight to Cybertron was expensive, and she had actually intended to bring her former charge on a smaller, less expensive ship. Possibly to another colony like Caminus.</p><p>But after the business with Boreus, she now knew the mistake that bringing him outside of this icy sphere would be.</p><p>For everyone.</p><p>As the shuttle readied itself for departure, she couldn’t help but feel like she was walking into a trap of someone else’s making.</p><p>But part of her didn’t care.</p><p>She had been on the run ever since she took the Matrix from him. She pursued potential new holders, people she thought could be better.</p><p>They all failed, in one way or another.</p><p>Was it her inability to judge? Or was it the nature of sentient life?</p><p>Either way, as the shuttle left Messatine’s atmosphere and began the long warp to Cybertron, she hoped the next one would be the heir she seeked out…</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. CHAPTER02</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Checkpoint did not expect this in any way.</p><p> </p><p>He had talked with Boreus only hours earlier, and here he was being asked to identify the body.</p><p>Autopsy reports revealed that the body had been pierced by icicles in enough vital components, and that whoever managed it did so with no hesitation. There was definitely a fight, judging by scratchmarks at the crime scene and what appeared to be an impression of a foot on Boreus’s face. But none of this gave Checkpoint answers.</p><p> </p><p>And it didn’t make reporting in Boreus’s death to his sparkmate and children any easier. Even the youngest, a mere sparking that had only recently emerged, seemed distressed.</p><p> </p><p>Death may be a natural thing, but talking about it never was easy.</p><p> </p><p>“Boreus…” Checkpoint spoke to himself, “I’ll find whoever did this to you, and they won’t get away with it. I promise you this.”</p><p> </p><p>And as Checkpoint left for the Spaceport, he saw a cruiser fly out, no doubt full of ordinary people unaware of the tragedy that had transpired in the House of Winter…</p><p>---</p><p>Half a galaxy away, in the Iacon Hall of Records, Orion packed his containment subspace and moved to depart… but before he could, he came across Ariel.</p><p> </p><p>“Ah, Ariel,” Orion stated in a half-hearted greeting.</p><p> </p><p>“Hello again,” Ariel replied back in a chipper fashion.</p><p> </p><p>“How was your first day on the job?”</p><p> </p><p>“Fairly uneventful, compared to what I’m used to at least.”</p><p> </p><p>“Trust me, I can imagine a job as a guard in a glorified museum can get pretty boring. I mean, I basically have controlling stake here, and even I’m bored sometimes,” Orion replied.</p><p> </p><p>“Pretty understandable…” Ariel replied, “You wanna go grab a drink?”</p><p> </p><p>“Sorry, I’m not very social in my off-time,” Orion replied, “Being out in public can be quite draining for me.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, I understand,” Ariel smiled, “Well, have a good rest of your day.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll try,” Orion replied, walking out the door and shifting to alt mode, heading back to his quarters with only the dust behind him.</p><p>---</p><p>Orion opened the door to see Dion packing a backpack.</p><p> </p><p>“Dion, what are you up to this time?”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh now you wanna know what I do on the side,” Dion muttered.</p><p> </p><p>“Eh?”</p><p> </p><p>“Look, despite what anyone can tell you, being a dock worker isn’t exactly the most... fulfilling job out there,” Dion replied, “All you really do is move boxes off of docking ships and throw them into a warehouse until you can’t cram any more in.”</p><p> </p><p>“I see, and where is this leading?”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, a couple years ago, a bit after I moved in, I decided I needed to get more money and an occasional change in scenery,” Dion explained, “Then I came to learn of a really interesting little pastime most cities have that Iacon doesn’t really… play around with.”</p><p> </p><p>“Is that right?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yep,” Dion replied, “Basically, I zoom on over to Kaon to help them out with a… personnel industry.”</p><p> </p><p>“You mean the Arenas?” Orion noted, remembering how the arenas were originally set up as training ground for the Combatron War, but these days were mostly used for sporting events. Kaon was infamous for being the first to allow Gladiatorial combat, although the rules there were pretty strict on the “no killing” policy.</p><p> </p><p>“Yep,” Dion noted, “If you want, you can come by and see what I do exactly.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll have to pass today,” Orion noted, “Long day at the hall of records and all. New member orientation and such.”</p><p> </p><p>“New member orientation?” Dion asked.</p><p> </p><p>“They’ve upped security over there and there’s some fresh blood as a result,” Orion noted, “Hopefully she grows to suit the role.”</p><p> </p><p>“She? This new bot a femme?”</p><p> </p><p>“Her gender’s irrelevant,” Orion pointed out, “If she does her job right, she’s okay.”</p><p> </p><p>“Look, Orion, I think you should try forming some semblance of a friendship with her,” Dion replied, “Lord knows you need more friends.”</p><p> </p><p>“You say that, but I’m a little suspicious of ulterior motives.”</p><p> </p><p>“My ulterior motives are to get you out of the house more often than your job and the occasional supply run can provide you,” Dion noted, “That way you get more out of life then being a talking database.”</p><p> </p><p>This gave Orion a bit of a laugh, and so he relented, “Alright, I’ll see what I can do.”</p><p> </p><p>“Good,” Dion replied, “Now if you excuse me…”</p><p> </p><p>Dion disappeared out the door, leaving Orion to his devices.</p><p>---</p><p>Chromia has never been in such hardship before. Sure, the military lifestyle she was eying for a while was certainly going to strain her, but the idea that her father, the head of her house, was not going to be there to see it… it didn’t feel too great.</p><p> </p><p>Her mother, a femme with an imposing presence who most knew as Cryus, was even more torn up about it. To an outsider, this may seem to be not the case, but Chromia knew how to read her face.</p><p> </p><p>“Chromia… Proteus…” she spoke at last, “Your father intended you two to pursue your own paths when you were older… but sometimes, the world dictates that you have to grow up quicker then you should.”</p><p> </p><p>“Mother…” Chromia began.</p><p> </p><p>“However… I do not want her to suffer the same fate,” Cryus' eyes moved down to the sparkling on the floor, “Tough times are ahead, and she shouldn’t have to grow up in those times.”</p><p> </p><p>Chromia knew immediately what she intended. Locking a sparking in Stasis lock for a few years has often been seen as a form of rejection… but Chromia knew that when her mother would make such a decision, it would be entirely because she wanted nothing but the best for her children.</p><p> </p><p>“Cogman,” she spoke, addressing a butlerbot who had been standing in the room.</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, my lady?”</p><p> </p><p>“I wish you to take Snowflake to the stasis pod. Make sure she’s tucked in, and has a nice, long nap.”</p><p> </p><p>“…I understand, milady,” Cogman replied, his tone somber, and he moved to take the child.</p><p> </p><p>“Wait,” Chromia spoke up at last, “I’ll do it.”</p><p> </p><p>“You will, Lady Chromia?” Cogman addressed her, “I don’t want to put unneeded pressure on you…”</p><p> </p><p>“I know,” Chromia replied, “But I feel like her last sight before she sleeps should be someone who cares for her as a family member.”</p><p> </p><p>“…That can apply for both of us,” Cogman replied, “But I understand.”</p><p>---</p><p>As she placed the Sparkling into the stasis pod, the peeps and gurgles of the small mass of nanites looked back at her, with those big beautiful optics… it was a little overwhelming.</p><p> </p><p>“Now, you are going to take a nice sleep,” Chromia spoke to her, “Everything you have will remain as you know it… and when the dust settles, and everything is fine… we’re going to be a family again.”</p><p> </p><p>The sparkling still moved around a bit.</p><p> </p><p>“…Alright… I’ll sing you a song… until you sleep.” Chromia smiled, and then she sung a lullaby. </p><p> </p><p>A song of the Primal Venacular, the meaning lost to time…</p><p> </p><p>And soon, the sparkling stopped stirring. Chromia pushed the button on the side, engaging the pod.</p><p> </p><p>&lt;&lt;STASIS POD ENGAGED.&gt;&gt;</p><p> </p><p>“Good night, Snowflake,” Chromia bid her sister goodbye.</p><p> </p><p>“And now that she’s safe and sound…” She heard her mother address her, “It’s time I added a new subject to your education.”</p><p>---</p><p>Inside the Hall of Records, in a holosuite, Ariel swung her spear at an attacker. As the assailant, a duplicate of her bordered by energy, hit the floor, they disappeared. Ariel always believed that the first step to being a good fighter was to be able to hold your own against herself. As such, she had obtained permission from her superiors to install some combat drills, customized to her preferences, in order to use the holodeck as a training room.</p><p> </p><p>“System, change to scenario Delta Four, and generate a new opponent” Ariel called out.</p><p>Responding to her request, the geography of the room began to change. What was once an open space with a red floor and walls switched to a mountainous landscape, as stone columns rose from the ground, forming a path of stepping stones. On the furthermost column, another duplicate of Ariel appeared, spear in hand.</p><p> </p><p>“And, begin!” stated Ariel, leaping from one column to the other.</p><p> </p><p>The holomatter duplicate did the same, charging towards Ariel. As they ran, several of the columns disappeared as more rose around them. Both combatants jumped around the holographic arena, waiting to see who would be the first to strike.</p><p> </p><p>Eventually it was the duplicate who made the first strike, leaping forward and thrusting her spear at the real Ariel. Ariel parried the blow with her own spear, and used the opportunity to kick the duplicate back. The duplicate was knocked back, managing to land back on her feet on the column she had just jumped from.</p><p> </p><p>Ariel then charged forward at her foe, leaping forward over several columns and swung her spear at the holomatter foe. The duplicate swung her own spear back, meeting the blade with her own. The two exchanged strikes, both managing to block them with impeccable timing. Before either could get an edge, the column beneath Ariel dropped, and her along with it.</p><p>Though she tried to grab her foe’s column, she could not reach it in time, and dropped… right onto the warm surface of the holodeck facefirst.</p><p> </p><p>“System, end simulation” Arial moaned as she picked herself up off the floor.</p><p> </p><p>As she stood up, the scenery disappeared, leaving only the projector on the floor and the blank white walls. Using her spear to aid her as she stood back up, she stretched and yawned.</p><p> </p><p>“Computer, save footage under file ‘Need for improvement’, then shut down when you’re done” she ordered. “I’ll check the footage and see what I need to work on before I start my shift in the morning.”</p><p> </p><p>Ariel left through the door, the lights slowly shutting off as she took her leave.</p><p>---</p><p>Outside of Messatine’s own arena, the blizzard winds made flying by all but the biggest fliers an example of stupidity in the works, and even the biggest fliers would have trouble figuring out where they were under normal circumstances. The battering of a propeller would be drowned out by the howling of the winds, and by the time anyone would notice you were even there, you’d be buried to your neck in the snow, frozen in the ice and forced into stasis lock. In other words, nobody would even think to look to the sky and think that anyone flying there would know what they were doing.</p><p> </p><p>Certainly not the larger-then-average copterbot, shrouded in white with only the black of its propeller betraying his presence.</p><p> </p><p>They stood a bigger chance of noticing the bot following behind, a purple behemoth of a jet, but even then the winds made them hard to notice…</p><p> </p><p>Honestly, despite the two brutes’ size, nobody would suspect much outside of possibly frozen corpses… if it weren’t for the purple one practically roaring.</p><p> </p><p>“That’s enough! We have the location of the arena already, but the sheer amount of wind and snow in the area makes actually getting him out of here too difficult!” the white one shouted.</p><p> </p><p>“NO! LIES! LIES!” The purple one doubled him in volume, “THERE’S NO EVIDENCE THAT THIS IS AN ORDINARY WINDSTORM! IF WE ARE TO FREE HIM, WE MUST DO IT NOW, LEAST A CRYOKINETIC FACE US DOWN!”</p><p> </p><p>“Keep your voice down, there’s no need to yell about this!”</p><p> </p><p>“I AM NOT YELLING! I AM POINTING OUT THAT WE MAY NOT HAVE ANOTHER CHANCE!”</p><p> </p><p>“You can do that by talking!”</p><p> </p><p>“I AM TALKING!”</p><p> </p><p>The howls of the wind made this conversation difficult to pick up on, but there was someone who was listening. The Autotrooper stationed outside, a Model G type, kept an eye on these two not out of any fear or caution for his job, but merely because he hoped he didn’t have to dig their frozen bodies out when the blizzard passed.</p><p> </p><p>“NOW, WE HAVE TO RUSH THE ENTRANCE, BASH OUR WAY IN, AND RETRIEVE HIM.”</p><p> </p><p>“We, in fact, do not! We can just say we’re aspiring gladiators, engage him in a fight, then grab him and run.”</p><p> </p><p>“THEY’LL BE OVER US IN A MATTER OF MINUTES IF WE DO!”</p><p> </p><p>“Like that’ll be anything more than inconvenient!”</p><p> </p><p>“WHAT MAKES YOU SAY THAT?!”</p><p> </p><p>“Your dad may have served in fighting off the Combatron army, but I was one of its secret weapons. Fleetkiller, remember?”</p><p> </p><p>Huh? Fleetkiller? This caught the Autotrooper’s attention.</p><p> </p><p>As the blizzard raged on, the Autotrooper could make out the two approaching. Although their approach was slow and ponderous, it was a miracle they could keep moving at all, and a miracle granted to them by their size. The Copterbot did indeed have a fleetkiller-style body, but the Autotrooper had seen many civilians with that body design, abiet smaller. The bot behind him was a purple and teal colossus, but the most notable bit was his single optic sensor, glowing like a giant flashlight tinted red.</p><p> </p><p>Eventually, the two managed to get to the doors…</p><p> </p><p>“Sir, if you want to enter, you could’ve just used the tunnel network,” The Autotrooper pointed out.</p><p> </p><p>“Uh… we could have, but my friend got us lost,” the copterbot answered back.</p><p> </p><p>“Right. So, you spectating or hoping to jump in?” the Autotrooper asked.</p><p> </p><p>“WE INTEND TO FIGHT! FOR THE GLORY OF-“ the jetbot was quickly interrupted by the copterbot stepping in, “The Union of Gladiatorial Heavyweights!”</p><p> </p><p>“…The what?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, we represent cybertronians of plus-sized bodytypes, both flier and groundpounder,” the copterbot replied, “Tell me, does your position in the Arenas provide any unsatisfactory factors of employment?”</p><p> </p><p>“…Well, they don’t have that great a health insurance,” the Autotrooper noted, “Being an AI myself I don’t have to worry too much, but apparently some of the gladiators lack something called ‘dental.’”</p><p> </p><p>“They don’t even have dental,” the copterbot sighed, “Relax, we’ll work it out with the people in charge here.”</p><p> </p><p>“AND HERE, HAVE A BOOK DETAILING SOME OF THE FLAWS IN SOCIETY AND PROPOSALS TO FIX THEM,” the behemoth gave the Autotrooper a book. A book with the title “Towards Peace.”</p><p> </p><p>And with that, the two entered…</p><p>---</p><p>The arena was a massive dome, and the pit in the middle of that dome was a huge center of activity… specifically fighting-type activity, as could be expected. Spectators cheered as a Junkion Two-Wheeler was thrown out of the arena into the crowd below.</p><p> </p><p>“AND THERE GOES BOLTS!” An announcer shouted, “Man, they’re raging out there today!”</p><p> </p><p>The colossus and copterbot approached the arena… only to be intercepted by the comically small form of a Camien jetbot.</p><p> </p><p>“Whoah, whoah, you two!” the jetbot noted, “You have to sign up for the next brawl. Sign up table’s over there.”</p><p> </p><p>The colossus blinked, narrowed his optical sensor, and sent the jet flying aside with a nonchalant flick of his admittedly bulky fingers.</p><p> </p><p>“We don’t need to be rude,” the copterbot admonished him.</p><p> </p><p>“This mission cannot afford niceties,” the colossus replied, stepping into the arena.</p><p> </p><p>“Well, folks, looks like we got an enthusiastic new addition to the fight this round!” The announcer noted, “Who wants to make bets on when he’s gonna get thrown out?! We may need multiple guys to do the throwing though!”</p><p> </p><p>The colossus looked over the arena, examining the fighters around him. One dinobot, fighting primarily in his therapodal beast mode. A tanker-bot wearing a less heavily armed version of the Autotrooper Type G body design. A white-tinted truckformer obviously using a military frame noted for the heavy armaments and gas-mask-styled helmet. An APC-bot with digitigrade legs and a fang-filled face, assisted in the intimidation factor by the optic-patch on her right side. All strong opponents in their own right, but his optic soon locked on a single opponent – a charcoal-armored bot with burgundy highlights and the distinct helmet of a miner.</p><p> </p><p>The colossus was interrupted from his scan by the dinobot charging at him first, fangs beared.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh boy, looks like Tarbosar’s making the first move against the newcomer!” The announcer cheered… and was interrupted when the colossus knocked him aside with minimal effort, “…And that ended up being a short-lived action! Let’s see if any of the other competitors can knock him out!”</p><p> </p><p>The tankerbot made the next move, converting to tank mode and blasting at the colossus with what he had. His blasts were caught mid-shot by a blast of wind, sending them flying to the other corners of the arena.</p><p> </p><p>“And it looks like Blast-Shard’s not getting lucky today, as another competitor has jumped in!”</p><p> </p><p>The other competitor, the copterbot, landed before the colossus. “You really couldn’t have waited until they had knocked each other out?”</p><p> </p><p>“The sooner we get the mission done, the better,” the colossus replied.</p><p> </p><p>The two were soon set upon by the truck-bot and the APC-bot.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, looks like Alphastrike and Solarstrike have teamed up for the task!”</p><p> </p><p>Another gust of wind saw their armaments rendered ineffective. Solarstrike, the APC, changed tactics to counter, generating an energon-spear in her hands and charging with a roar…</p><p> </p><p>“Just step aside,” The copterbot intercepted with his own hand, grabbing her helm and tossing her to the edge of the arena.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, dear, looks like our newcomers are just tossing the established cast aside! Can Alphastrike and whats-his-face turn this around?!” the announcer asked nobody.</p><p> </p><p>This gave the colossus pause.</p><p> </p><p>“Wait…” Copterbot turned and saw the barely-restrained rage in the colossus’s optic, “I know it’s tempting but don’t give in. We have a job to do…”</p><p> </p><p>“I know…” The colossus noted, “But we have to de-escalate this… right?”</p><p> </p><p>For the first time since he arrived, the colossus winded up a punch, aimed not at a target, but the ground.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, no,” the Copterbot jumped as high as he could.</p><p> </p><p>“KINETIC EXAGGERATION!” The colossus shouted, “MEGATON PUNCH!!!”</p><p> </p><p>The sheer force of the named punch’s impact sent everyone flying… spectators included.</p><p> </p><p>Satisfied by his efforts, the colossus stood up again, and began walking out of the arena, to where the charcoal-armored bot had been embedded in the nearby wall.</p><p> </p><p>“Ugh…” the charcoal-armored bot groaned, “Is… is this where I’m going to get wrecked? Did… did House Winter send you?”</p><p> </p><p>The colossus shook his head no, “I am not here for their dream… I’m here for yours.”</p><p> </p><p>“What?” The charcoal-armored bot had only enough time to utter that question before he was extracted from the wall.</p><p> </p><p>“Control, this is White-Out and Purple People Eater,” The copterbot tapped his commlink, “Target has been acquired. We will now head to the extraction point.”</p><p> </p><p>“Soundwave Acknowledges. Proceed.”</p><p> </p><p>“W-what’s going on-“ The charcoal bot asked.</p><p> </p><p>“Relax, sir,” The copterbot patted him on the head, “We’re just going on a quick trip.”</p><p> </p><p>The two brutes quickly transformed into vehicle mode, both aerial-types, and jetted out of the scene, a confused miner/gladiator being carried along with them.</p><p> </p><p>“Wh-HEY!” The only standing combatant, Alphastrike, shouted as they departed, “You purple bastard, You owe me a rematch!”</p><p>---</p><p>A short while of flying through the blizzard later, the two landed at a nearby transit train station.</p><p> </p><p>“Uh, not to distract you two, but normally there’s a terminal where you pay for transit-“ the charcoal-colored bot spoke up.</p><p> </p><p>“Sir, please, allow us to explain ourselves,” the copterbot replied as the train arrived, “When we’re far from here.”</p><p> </p><p>The three of them boarded the train and took seats at a nearby booth, shutting the door behind them.</p><p> </p><p>“Alright, what’s this about? Purely a means of ransom?” the charcoal-colored one asked.</p><p> </p><p>“I think it’s best if she explains it,” The copterbot pulled a small holodisk and activated it, projecting a femme with a chevron mounded on their forehead.</p><p> </p><p>“Hello, Megatron,” The femme spoke, “Yes, we know who you are. My name is Kiloton, former miner of Croteus 12, and according to the government as dictated by energon recovery companies such as Omnicon, neither of us exist.”</p><p> </p><p>“You guys… are associated with Elita?” the now identified Megatron asked.</p><p> </p><p>“Who?” the copterbot asked back.</p><p> </p><p>“…Nevermind,” Megatron replied.</p><p> </p><p>“However, due to the machinations of many individuals both on Messatine and elsewhere in the commonwealth, your words have spread far and wide, and many miners are at least aware of the words of ‘Towards Peace,’” Kiloton continued, “And they’re liking what they’re reading.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, so I’m being abducted by fans!” Megatron chuckled, “Please tell me this isn’t going to end with my legs in pieces.”</p><p> </p><p>“Why would it, Lord Megatron?” the colossus asked.</p><p> </p><p>“I’d prefer if you didn’t use that title, please, mr…”</p><p> </p><p>“I am designated Lugnut,” the colossus replied.</p><p> </p><p>“Grindor,” the copterbot added.</p><p> </p><p>“Your teachings have gained quite a following, with thousands of bots believing in you. But recent events have forced our hand. We intend to bring you out of that icy hellscape and into a world where you can see the full effects,” Kiloton continued, “If Lugnut did the job right, the next stop for this train should be Houth Station. From there, you can head over to Tochi Hanger, where your ride out will be waiting.”</p><p> </p><p>“Are we on the right train?” Grindor asked.</p><p> </p><p>&lt;&lt;We are now approaching Houth Station,&gt;&gt; the system announced, &lt;&lt;Please make sure you’re not blocking the door for new riders.&gt;&gt;</p><p> </p><p>“Is that a sufficient answer for you?” Lugnut asked.</p><p> </p><p>As the train pulled into the station, the three of them exited.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, wait, I didn’t check your ticket!” A nearby attendant shouted.</p><p> </p><p>“Too late we’re going!” Lugnut replied, grabbing Megatron, hoisting him over his shoulder, and running for the exit. Grindor followed close behind, looking slightly mortified.</p><p>---</p><p>Tochi Hanger was a relatively desolate place. It was mostly used for storing private cruisers when they weren’t being used by the ruling elite. Much of it was automated, making the few bots working there have little else to do but stand around and wait for someone to yell at them for not fixing something.</p><p> </p><p>The arrival of the two massive fliers was probably the most interesting thing for them that day, but they stirred not.</p><p> </p><p>“Alright, we’re here,” Grindor noted, “The ship should be nearby.”</p><p> </p><p>Megatron turned his head as best he could to see the ship in question – a rather dingy looking shuttle with two massive pods on either side of the machine.</p><p> </p><p>“Ah, a Dreska-class shuttle,” Grindor smiled, “So nostalgic.”</p><p> </p><p>“Where’s the pilot, though?” Lugnut wondered aloud.</p><p> </p><p>“Answer: Present,” A new voice spoke up, one that sounded even more metallic than a typical AI, but one with a kind of aura that could not come from anything other than a true lifeform. Megatron was put down by Lugnut and turned to see a third mech – a boxy blue mech with a faceplate, a gold-colored visor, and a giant glowing panel in their chest.</p><p> </p><p>“Uh, nice to meet you, I’m-“ Megatron began trying to introduce himself.</p><p> </p><p>“Identified; Megatron,” the blue mech replied. He then pointed at himself, “Personal designation; Soundwave III.”</p><p> </p><p>“Three?” Megatron asked.</p><p> </p><p>“Soundwave used to be in the Combatron War as a communications mech, but after the war, he began backing up his consciousness as a backup measure. Legally his copies are considered new bots,” Grindor noted.</p><p> </p><p>“I am the third back-up created,” Soundwave added.</p><p> </p><p>“I see. So, uh, Soundwave, I take it you’re our shuttle pilot?” Megatron asked.</p><p>“Affirmative. Destination; Cybertron.”</p><p> </p><p>“w-What?” Megatron stuttered, “THE Cybertron?”</p><p> </p><p>“Affirmative.”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s… a bit of a shock,” Megatron noted, “I’m… sorry if I seem a bit taken aback-“</p><p> </p><p>“We don’t have time for clarification!” Lugnut shouted, “We’ve got Autotroopers incoming!”</p><p> </p><p>Indeed, a small force of Model Type A Autotroopers were approaching rapidly.</p><p> </p><p>“Excuse me, sir!” The leader of the force spoke up, “Might we have a word?”</p><p> </p><p>“Get Megatron inside!” Lugnut shouted.</p><p> </p><p>“Affirmative,” Soundwave replied, pushing Megatron up the boarding ramp.</p><p>Megatron could only hear the sounds of plasma fire and then a loud booming noise that caused the ship to shudder.</p><p> </p><p>“DAMMIT LUGNUT, SOME WARNING NEXT TIME!” Grindor admonished as he dragged Lugnut on board.</p><p> </p><p>“Launching Sequence Initiated,” Soundwave announced, “Recommendation; strap in.”</p><p> </p><p>Megatron fumbled with his strap as the other two managed it before him.</p><p> </p><p>“Launching.”</p><p> </p><p>The ship’s engines roared and it blasted out of the hanger, knocking aside the Autotroopers that remained.</p><p> </p><p>Before any response could be scrambled, the Dreska Shuttle erupted from Messatine’s atmosphere and warped out of the system…</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. CHAPTER03</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <h1>
  <span>CHAPTER 03</span>
</h1><p>
  <span>Orion’s optics looked over the ocean, scanning the horizon. Oceans were a relative rarity on Cybertron, with only the ones that didn’t involve water being named. But they proved beneficial to the shipment of goods, and many bots have taken on modes designed for this environment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Where Orion stood, Helix’s Lookout, was famous for being a famous lookout point for people lonely enough to look for relationships to toss shanix into the water for good luck, but Orion had no interest in the idea. This area merely was close enough to his workplace that he could roll here and back, while also sticking away from the crowds that normally gathered in the city’s more common feeding centers.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Of course, that didn’t mean he was always alone.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So, this is where you sneak off to every lunch,” The voice of Ariel brought his attention behind him, as the gold-black femme stepped up to the railing next to him, “You been meeting some lucky boy with a shanix at the ready?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Heh, no,” Orion answered, “I just like to get away from everyone else. Not like I’m that sociable, anywho.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know,” Ariel noted, “You give me the time of day. And I’ve seen you meeting that dockworker every day when you leave work.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“After the first month, Dion threatened to trash our place if I don’t talk to him, and I don’t want him breaking my books.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So all I’ve got to do to make conversation with you is threaten to bring my lance down through your desk,” Ariel noted teasingly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Alright, fine, I’ll talk,” Orion chuckled, “But I won’t talk about family, romance or Cube games.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ariel chuckled back.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“To tell you the truth,” Ariel noted, “I think you’re kinda nice. I mean, you’re the only person besides A3 who actually talks to me. You librarian types tend to clan up, but you don’t seem like that. And besides, don’t think I haven’t noticed the occasional glances over you give.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Umm, well, it always pays to know where the security guard is,” Orion noted, “Never know when, um, an emergency might come up, you, uh, know?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If you say so,” Ariel noted, sipping down an energon cube, “So, how do you know Dion?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“At first it was mostly economical,” Orion noted, “the apartment is within my budget, but it made sense to have someone to back up the payments, even if by a little bit.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ah, roommates,” Ariel noted, “So, a dockworker has enough money to supplement your rent?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I figured he could add at least a few months. But then he turned out to have an extra career he works nights at, down in Kaon.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Kaon? You mean the one place on Cybertron where chaos reigns?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He’s the type to like his jobs rough.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What kind of extra career does he have?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I… I think it has something to do with the arenas,” Orion noted.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Is he a fighter?” Ariel asked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, but apparently he knows a few of them…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I… I see,” Ariel noted.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A brief period of silence crossed the two, before…</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Y’know, he invited me to join him on a trip there sometime,” Orion spoke up, “And I’m not sure what to do there.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“…Well, he’s your friend, I don’t know him that well,” Ariel pointed out, “So I’m torn between encouraging you to go, and advising you to avoid Kaon.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You ever been to Kaon?” Orion asked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Never.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So you’re basing your assessment on data that could be contaminated with bias.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Even people forged in Kaon have agreeing opinions, so there’s some truth to it, at least.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s a possibility.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“…Honestly, you have to go with your gut on these kinds of things,” Ariel noted, “Strategy can help, data can inform, but ultimately sometimes your feelings are the best to lead.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I see… helpful advice,” Orion noted.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Just doing what I can.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “You ready man?” Dion asked as Orion exited his room.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“As much as I feel like this is a mistake on my part, I guess we’re going down to your new workplace,” Orion noted.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Trust me, you’re not going to regret it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Within the half-hour, Orion and Dion arrived at a Transwarp Portal Center. The portal tech was still relatively new, being only about 4 years old and such, but the inherent risks of the technology were still mostly ignored in favor of the novelty of taking one step out of one city and ending up on the other side of the world.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What? You think I drive all the way there?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But a trip on one of these things is pretty expensive. Even with a dockworker’s pay, you can’t afford to go more than twice a month to and from… well, anywhere, really.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I managed to get a multiple-day pass to and from anywhere in the world,” Dion replied, “Hell, anywhere in the Commonwealth if I wanted. But mostly I go to one location…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dion stepped on a Transwarp pad and typed a few codes in. “If you wanna come, you better step on.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Orion, too intrigued to think too much, stepped on.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, you might not wanna move too much, I don’t usually bring along anything too big and anything that indicates you’re alive might tip off the scanner and get me charged extra,” Dion replied, as the pad hummed to life…</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And in a brilliant flash of light, Orion and Dion were now in a very different place. Rather then the stark white of the buildings of Iacon, the ground and walls were a deep blueish purple.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Orion, my friend, welcome to the anti-Iacon,” Dion smirked, “Kaon, the City of the Fallen.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Just as filthy as I expect,” Orion noted with no inflection in his voice.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know! Exciting, ain’t it,” Dion smirked, “Every kind of degenerate you can find here. The brutes, the mad scientists, the punks, the jocks… trust me, if every city in the universe was like Kaon, no man would ever feel unwanted or the need to change themselves to fit anyone else’s ideals. But even here? There are some who feel they need an outlet for their… what do you call it…?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Homicidal tendencies?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Need to relieve some stress,” Dion smirked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“…what are you, a peeler?” Orion asked, quite confused.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“A peeler? Primus, Orion, do I look like I let people ogle me for money?” Dion replied with mock offense, “I don’t have the right body type for these people. I’m… more of a fight manager.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Eh? They need those for gladiatorial arenas?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, if you kept a closer eye on such things, you’d find Gladiatorial to be such a bad word for it,” Dion replied, “It’s closer to professional wrestling on some planets, or boxing. Entirely voluntary, death is not a prerequisite for winning, and nobody goes to bed crying… at least, not publicly.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, but it’s still not legal!” Orion hissed, “I mean, not under the Prime’s rule…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The Prime’s rule is exactly why this was necessary,” Dion replied, his tone darkening a bit, “Like it or not, people are not exactly pleased with how strict rules have been, so they need a place to lash out and let their anger out, and the fights of the gladiatorial arena are a perfect spectacle!”</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>This gave Orion pause… a perfect spectacle for the masses… and yet, it wasn’t exactly lawful. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>How big could it possibly be?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pretty big, in fact.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The entire damn arena covered an area that seemed to match that of the Iacon Amphitheater, with the stands each holding about a thousand seats per row.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>What was really surprising to Orion was the fighting arena itself, more specifically what it actually was. A massive disk of malleable technomatter that when programmed properly, could mimic the shape and properties of any environment, the illusion completed by a vast array of holoprojectors, which at the moment combined to form a blazing desert like the mysterious Arrakis of the Starborne Nebula.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Not that this mattered to the two construction bots currently beating the tar out of each other.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“OOOO! LOOKS LIKE LANDMINE GOT THE UPPER HAND HERE, FOLKS!” The announcer shouted in delight, “BUT CAN GRAVEDIGGER DIG HIS WAY OUT OF THIS ONE?!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So, uh, which one’s your fighter?” Orion asked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Neither of them. Landmine and Gravedigger are two of the most powerful fighters in the entire circuit, and have a bit of a long-standing rivalry, albeit a friendly one if we’re gonna be honest,” Dion noted, “My fighter’s probably in the back room, waiting for me to give him a pep talk or something…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“OHOHOHOH! LOOKS LIKE GRAVEDIGGER’S BREAKING OUT THE BIG MOVES! PILEDRIVER! PILEDRIIIVER!!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Orion, shrugging, followed Dion towards the back room entrance...</span>
</p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The back room was considerably less oppressive in aesthetic to the arena or even the city at large. tiles of lavender dotted the halls and rows of lockers lined the place, but it was a considerably more open area compared to what Orion expected.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The people in them, on the other hand, were as weighty and armored as he expected, for the most part. It was certainly a stark contrast, enough to bring Orion to find the nearest bench and sit down, the towel that had conveniently been put town gave Orion a sense of safety…</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Which had been promptly shattered when he heard a hissing voice behind him address his presence with a simple "you…."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And when Orion turned around, he saw it came from the tallest cybertronian he had ever laid eyes on, a massive mech who looked like he became some sort of drilling machine, optics glaring down on him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Uh… I apologize for how I… offended you," Orion got up as slowly and as carefully, not wanting to anger this Goliath, "Please… let me know how I could prevent such from happening again."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"DON'T DISTURB MY DIRT!" the titan roared, removing the towel to reveal several piles of dirt, "DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH TIME IT TAKES TO KEEP THESE SOIL SAMPLES FROM CROSS CONTAMINATING?!"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As the giant took an absurd amount of time to fix up the 'soil samples,' Orion attempted to back away.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Wait." the humongous mech turned to him, "You don't look like the usual managers. Who are you? Who sent you?! SPEAK UP!"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Uh… I'm here with a friend, don't mind-" Orion managed to stammer out before the massive mech grabbed his arm, "WHOA HEY, I AM SORRY FOR DISTURBING YOU!"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Look, calm down, you might hurt yourself more then I would!" the drilling machine hissed, using a tiny manipulator claw emerging from his arm to remove a sliver of metal before letting Orion's arm go, "Alright, let's hear your story…"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Uh…" Orion attempted to reply before the mech interrupted him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Ok, this came from a clean environment, parchment fiber from the Rust Delta circa Age of Expansion Year 500, lead pencil no. 2, paint flakes of Iacon Pure White #34," the titan murmured, "The microscopic fingerprints of an archivist…" a closer look was taken, "Top. Ranking."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"…Is this something you learn from experience or-"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"THIS IS AN OUTRAGE!" the titan roared, swinging wildly, "WE CAME HERE TO GET AWAY FROM YOUR TYPE! OUT! BEGONE, YOU OPPRESSOR!"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Orion backed away as quickly as he could… right into the midsection of the arriving Gravedigger.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Uh oh," Gravedigger snickered, "Looks like someone sat in the dirt again."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Orion could only stammer out the word 'again.'</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Moledive! What have I told you about playing nice with the managers and their friends?" Gravedigger addressed the massive mech.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"IT IS MENASOR, YOU LUMMOX! Or should I call you Scavenger?!" Moledive shouted, drills spinning threateningly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gravedigger responded only by bringing out a cleansing chemical bar, "Don't make me use this."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This was apparently enough to bring Moledive / Menasor to cower behind a nearby row of lockers.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I am terribly sorry for causing that situation," Orion replied.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Ah, it's alright. Most people learn to keep those on hand whenever he's around," Gravedigger smirked, "I'm sure you already know my name. Gravedigger."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Orion Pax," Orion replied without hesitation, "Uh, nice to meet you."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Oh, you're that guy Dion complains about all the time," Gravedigger noted, "Kinda wanted to meet you someday, just to see how much of a buzzkill you would be. Ah well, no time like the present."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I'm not a buzzkill… social activity just tires me out," Orion replied.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Ah, that's my cousin Tread's excuse, too," Gravedigger chuckled, "So, where you from?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Well, I spent most of my life up in Iacon, but I was actually born of Tygar Pax."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Tygar Pax, eh? Coastal city bordering the Sea of Nova," Gravedigger noted, "My other cousin works there. Your family ever take up fishing?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Not really, you?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Primus no. I hate fishing. Too leisurely for me, it leaves a stupid muck on my armor, hate all the little bones."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Eh, fish was never really big with me either, so I can relate."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Alright, nice to hear!"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That's when Dion popped in, "Yo, Orion, can we, uh, talk a bit here?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Sure," Orion nodded, turning to Gravedigger, "Well, it was nice to meet you."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Nice to meet you too!"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As Dion dragged Orion away, he started asking questions.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"How'd you meet Gravedigger?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Oh, he defended me from a massive drilling machine."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Moledive? Oh man, he is the WORST."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Where do they MAKE bots like that?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"He claims to be from the colony world of Gigantion. Wherever the hell that is."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I might check the archive about that tomorrow," Orion made a mental note.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Anyway, the point is that you actually had a conversation with one of the top gladiators here!" Dion replied, "That is HUGE for your first day here!"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"If you say so…" Orion replied.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Anyway, allow me to introduce you to MY gladiator," Dion smirked, leading him to a purple-and-orange mech who was sitting down… while fighting a cougaraider.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Is that guy fighting a cougaraider?" Orion asked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"That's his favorite pastime outside the arena," Dion replied, "Yo, Pact! You got a second?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Ah, Dion! Give me a second, this Cougaraider has a lot of bite to him!" the mech that Dion called Pact quickly snapped the poor creature's neck, "There. Now we're good! Who's the nerd?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"This is Orion, my roommate," Dion replied, "Orion, allow me to introduce you to Impactor!"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"G'day, Orion! Nice to meet you!" Impactor reached a hand out… and as soon as Orion took it, he immediately maneuvered Orion into a noogie, "Haha! This guy's just a big softie, ain't he!"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Admittedly, yeah," Orion managed to grunt out as Impactor let him go.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Anyway, next fight's mine, right?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Yep. And your fighter's… huh, I could've sworn it was Sulture, but this chart says Beastboost."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Sulture got admitted to the hospital! Mining accident!" one guy shouted.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Beastboost, Sulture, what difference will it make when I break their face in?" Impactor smirked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Uh, this is meant to be a friendly fight, right?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Kid," Impactor smirked, "Trust me. It will…"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Impactor got up, dusting himself off, and made his way to the arena's door, Dion following.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Now, pal, I don't think I should make it clear, that you shouldn't TRY to kill the other guy," Orion heard Dion tell his fighter.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Trust me. I don't try to kill them. It just kinda happens."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I sincerely hope you pull back this time, though. If another one dies this month, you're gonna be barred from fighting here for a YEAR," Dion pointed out.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Trust me, Dion," Impactor stepped into a porter booth, "I'll do just fine."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As Impactor teleported out, Orion saw a holoscreen boot up, projecting the arena, now shifted into a forestry area. On one side, Impactor stood, arms crossed, smile wide. The other side, a green Primatoid who looked like he transformed into a race car of sorts. And in-between, a white mech with the only hints of color being red and blue panels on his arms and his azure optic visor.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Ok, I want a clean fight. No eye touching, no groin attacks, no intentional killing," the middle mech replied, "Impactor Halyon vs Beastboost Hardfist. Battle Code, 0902. Ready…"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"FIGHT!" Impactor interrupted him, charging forward. The Primatoid charged as well, the two meeting in a cross-counter in the middle.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Orion found himself in awe. Even if he was a bit skeptical about the legal nature of this form of duel, he could not take his eyes off it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The way Beastboost used Transformation to knock Impactor off his feet… the way Impactor grabbed his alt mode's top fin and flung him across the arena… the way Beastboost used the trees to redirect his free-fling to hit Impactor like a rocket… Which gave Impactor ample room to send him FLYING OUT OF THE ARENA INTO THE STANDS?!</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Battle…OVER!" the judge announced. "The winner is… IMPACTOR!"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"HAHAHAHAHA!" Impactor gestured, "WHO THE BOT?! ME THE BOT!"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And there was no doubt about it… Orion made a note to come back here again, if only for the thrill again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not far from the arena, a Dreska-class shuttle entered the city, carrying only passengers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“PRIMUS, That was a trip!” Megatron noted.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, sorry, forgot how the Spacebridges can be for first-timers,” Grindor noted.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Megatron shook his head, “No, no, don’t be concerned about me…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay, okay,” Grindor replied.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The ship landed in a spaceport near the arena, abet a very unpopulated one.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“From one empty shipyard to another,” Megatron noted.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As the ramp opened, a new figure stood before the ship. A femme, silver in armored, with a familiar chevron on her forehead.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I take it you’re Kiloton?” Megatron asked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And you must be Megatron,” the femme, Kiloton, noted.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s nice to meet you,” Megatron replied.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kiloton smiled. Even with someone who called for a total devastation of the system, they could be so humble by comparison…</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. CHAPTER04</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <h1>
  <span>CHAPTER 04</span>
</h1><p>
  <span>It had been a month since he started coming to these fights at Dion's request, and now Orion had managed to make a pretty good balance between his job as an archivist and his… well, he would hesitate to call it a career, so more of a hobby really, But either way, his time in this Kaonian Arena had led to him being known and respected by many competitors. Enough that they’ve begun sharing stories of their past.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So there I was, deep in the Acid Wastes of Pern, facing two Vehicon tank drones,” Gravedigger continued the story, “And who would show up but one of their top generals?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, is that right? Which one?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t really remember the name, but he had this really annoying voice, like,” Gravedigger’s voice shot to a falsetto, “Oh, nowhere to run, Vanguard scum! You’re absolutely hopeless here!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, what happened next?” Dion asked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, I shot a blast from my Proton Rifle, which ricocheted from one grunt to another before hitting the guy’s thruster, blowing him into the sky and sending him tumbling into the ground below! And as he growled with pain, I decided to taunt him a bit with a last little bit of info – ‘the name’s Gravedigger. And if you mess with my friends again, you’ll see why.’ Then I transformed and drove back into the plains, too quick for anyone to catch up.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Interesting story,” Orion noted.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, one of the moments in the war that stuck out to me,” Gravedigger chuckled, “Another was that one time I sparred with Ginrai Convoy himself. Granted, it was a team effort with me and Landmine, and that still didn’t slow him down, but it still was a pretty good moment for both of us.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Really? Why?” Orion asked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, that was a bit of a long story,” Gravedigger smirked, “But what the heck, I’ve got a few minutes to spare…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I gotta admit, it’s surprising how much more complex the situation is on Cybertron,” Megatron noted as his optics scanned the skyline of Kaon… or rather, the rampant commercialization that seems to have grown on it like a wild vine of some organic variety, suffocating the life out of the forest it invaded.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Indeed,” Kiloton replied, “On Messatine and colony worlds like it, one company is responsible for the energon you fuel yourself with, the job you work at, the very floor beneath your feet. On Cybertron, it’s an economic battleground, and everyone wants to be the apex.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How is order maintained in such an environment?” Megatron thought to ask.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kiloton’s optics turned down to a small gathering on a sidestreet, where at least five bots were all standing in a pathway, which blocked the travel of a few civilians. Before Megatron could say anything, a force of Autotroopers erupted from a nearby street and started wacking at the protestors with tonfas. Not hard enough to actually hurt, but enough to drive the protestors off the street at least.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Violently,” was Kiloton’s answer.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Such barbarism,” Megatron hissed, “Can’t these bots just let people state their opinions in peace?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That would necessitate them giving up control over the populace,” Kiloton sighed, “And that is the last thing they want.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Guess corporations need to rule everything, don’t they?” Megatron replied.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“They’re not the only ones who you need to look out for,” Kiloton responded.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But they have all the money,” Megatron noted, “Who could have more influence with the powers of Cybertron?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The Functionists,” Kiloton gave her answer.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Megatron looked confused. He did some research on the Functionists, but he didn’t think they were that prominent.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The Functionists are a group of bots so dedicated to making sure everything is in perfect order that they believe everyone is guided to their alt mode by the will of Primus himself, for a task Primus chose,” Kiloton explained, “and unfortunately for the rest of us, they’re zealots.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Some could say the same thing for the Reversionists,” Megatron noted, “From what I understand, their desire to see Cybertron’s children return to her is more oppressive.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes, but the fact is that their belief is not exactly compatible with the idea of people being able to change their mind later,” Kiloton answered, “With the Reversionists, you could at least argue with them about what their religion constitutes. With the Functionists, you’re essentially screaming bloody murder at a piece of wall plating. It won’t understand that you have your opinion, but if the task suits its purpose, it will crush you flat.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I… I see,” Megatron grew silent.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“My mentor saw the Functionists as a greater threat, even before they gained their current influence.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Your mentor?” Megatron asked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I may have been merely a construction bot, but I was put in some lucrative projects, which earned me the interest of a local senator,” Kiloton explained, “Her name was Termagax, and she and I grew to appreciate each other’s ideas.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sounds like what I had with my mentor,” Megatron noted, “His name was Terminus.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Terminus?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. He was an old miner I had to room with at the beginning of my time in the mines. He ended up teaching me a lot about the outside world, and even distributed my first book. Then he lost his legs and got carted off-world. I think he’s dead.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You think he’s dead?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“…I see…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Today’s senate meeting will begin thusly,” A gold-plated jetbot spoke as he stood surrounded by his peers, “Senator Arcton of Nova Cronum presiding.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Can I submit a query to be answered quickly before we begin in earnest?” A blue Cybertronian with the hallmark wheels of a hauler interrupted.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Acknowledged, Senator Wildrun of Praxus.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Where’s Guard Con-“ Wildrun cleared his vocoder, “Sentinel Prime?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He will not be attending today’s meeting,” a red-plated beastformer answered, “He’s occupied with presiding over a trade negotiation with the Shadow Proclamation.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So, what’s the meaning of this meeting if the Prime is not here to advise it?” asked a green copterbot.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The fact that the Prime is not here is exactly why it has to be held today,” Arcton answered, “This meeting is to discuss the possibility of removing Sentinel from a position of power and assigning a new Prime to preside.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do you believe the Prime is unfit for duty?” the copterbot asked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I propose this as a cautionary measure,” Arcton replied, “Ever since the Matrix’s disappearance, Sentinel’s mind has grown more fragmented, and this has left him vulnerable to parties that in spite of their claims are not acting in the best interest of the populace.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You speak of the Functionist Council?” A white bot wearing robes inquired.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Amongst others.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What others are you speaking of?” a silver-plated carformer asked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Many in certain citystates and colonies are beginning to form responses to the faults of society pointed out by controversial manuscripts, including a particularly venomous one called ‘Towards Peace,’” Arcton explained, “I know that prior to departing from the senate, Termagax of Kaon began using various passages of it as a basis for her ‘Ascension’ platform.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Is this connected to the ‘Risers’ who’ve been a local nuisance in Tarn?” Another bot in robes, this one going with metal instead of fabric.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We suspect so.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Anything else you suspect, Arcton?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“A couple months ago, Messatine suffered a mining accident that rendered part of the planet’s upper hemisphere untenable, and a couple days later, Boreus was assassinated.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Murmurs soon filled the room.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Then a week after that, the arena that Boreus was assassinated in got assailed by a former Combatronian soldier along with an unknown associate, which culminated in a single competitor being kidnapped. Autotroopers tracked the two to a spaceport a short tram ride away, only for the kidnappers to leave the planet with their hostage and an unknown third associate,” Arcton continued, “This is no coincidence. I have reason to believe the mine’s destruction, Boreus’s assassination, and the kidnapping all involve the same individual.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Three incidents that most have not paid any mind except for Boreus being destroyed,” the white bot pointed out, “Why does this disturb you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Because while I have no proof, I also believe this has some connection to ‘Towards Peace.’”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What do you intend to do?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Find anyone involved in this case, be they the kidnapper, their associates, or the hostage, and bring them in so we can have a better understanding of this case,” Arcton answered “Before it escalates into a crisis and is brought to the attention of the Functionists.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Right, and who are you going to find for the job?” the metal-robed bot asked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I do have many options, but the one with the most potential happens to be from your turf, Senator Momus representing Tarn,” Arcton answered.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why do you insist on mentioning the representing part, if I may ask?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Because it’s not accurate to your forgeworld, Momus of Messatine.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t feel like this is right to point out in this particular situation.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes, but Messatine certainly seems to be the current epicenter of quite a few problems,” Arcton sneered, “And ultimately, a bot from your assigned city may just be the way you can make up for your worldbrother’s mishaps.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If you don’t drop the point, I may just bar you from hiring anyone from my sector and inform Sentinel of this.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ah, if you insist,” Arcton noted, “I have plenty of options, and I doubt he will care so much…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“ENOUGH!” a heavy-set mech who had been hovering in the back bellowed, “Enough of this… prattling. Momus has every right to be here, just as you do. And the way I see it, he should make the call on who to call for this situation.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Everyone turned to Momus, expecting a response.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“…I will consider it,” Momus gave one, “But first, I need to look into the issue.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sounds reasonable,” Arcton replied, “You will be allowed to head to the Archive here in Iacon. Senator Codexa of Helex can accompany if she feels it’s needed.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Understood.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Now, onto another order of business, who’ll be the replacement Prime?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know WHO, but I vote to name him Nominus Prime!” The heavy in the back answered.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Is that supposed to be a joke, Senator Hedonus of Kalis?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It can be, or it can be more~!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If you’re not going to be helpful, we won’t let you near your pit after this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hedonus gasped, then grew silent.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s what I thought. Anyone got any ideas on who’ll be a good Prime?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Nobody answered.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“C’mon, I can’t be the only one thinking a new Prime may be needed, right?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Nobody answered.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Y’all are being harsh.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“…And then Gravedigger mentioned getting involved in the Ultracon Conflict, which gave a clearer picture of the war then we had at the archive at the time,” Orion explained, “Which is why I ended up heading over here rather than heading home afterwards.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, guess you going to Kaon so often was good for something,” Ariel noted, “I do have to state my reservations of going with Dion every single time he asks. People are beginning to talk about you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, it’s a good thing to get some perspective outside your comfort zone,” Orion noted, “Keeps you from going static.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I suppose…” Ariel sighed, but her optics soon were focused on two new figures entering the archive.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>One was a green power-pole of a fembot, with a flattened visor and a serious expression. The other was a shorter bot, dressed in robe-like armor.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Excuse me!” Orion addressed the two, “Can I help you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That will not be necessary, sir,” the robed bot answered.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Alright, well, feel free to holler if you need anything,” Orion replied.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The two nodded and continued into the archive’s information wing.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Holler?” Orion asked nobody, “I seriously said holler?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You did,” Ariel answered.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, guess I really AM spending too much time in the arena, huh,” Orion noted.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And that’s not the most concerning part of that interaction,” Ariel noted.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“…It’s not?” Orion asked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Those were the senators from Helex and Tarn,” Ariel explained, “Not exactly the most high-up bots out there, but definitely noteworthy.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“…Oh, Primal Forge.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeeeeeep.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“…Which one was the Tarn Senator, out of curiosity?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Robe-armor guy. Don’t remember his name,” Ariel answered, “I think the Helexian senator’s… Codexa?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Codexa? I heard she has her own archive, one linked to this one,” Orion noted.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What brings her here, then?” Ariel asked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No idea…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Orion’s commlink beeped, grabbing his attention.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Orion Pax here. How may I assist you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Orion, it’s Dion,” the voice on the other end answered, “Think you can swing by downtown?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Downtown Kaon?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, downtown Iacon. Specifically, that new Autobot House thing they’re building,” Dion replied, </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“There’s someone I think you should meet.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ll see if I can spare my lunch period,” Orion answered.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Cool!” Dion responded, “See you then!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fourth street… Fifth Street… Seventh Street…” Orion counted the streets as he drove in vehicle mode, “Hang on, where’d sixth street go? Oh, nevermind, I’m here.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Transforming, Orion laid his eyes on a golden done, decorated in a massive red face that looked similar in design to the old Primal Vanguard symbol.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“ Well, this is the place, Autobot House. Centre of Iacon,” Orion noted, “God knows why Dion wants us to meet here.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Late! Toldja! You owe me 50 shannix!” Orion heard as Dion rolled up beside him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Late - where were you? And we never made any bets!” Orion hissed in protest.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I did! In my head! And I won!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Orion sighed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So why are we here, Dion? Aside from the fact it’s not officially been opened, I highly doubt you got a meeting with someone like Sherma.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m just taking you to meet a guy I met online,” Dion explained, prompting Orion to growl a bit, </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Apparently he met the person who stole the Matrix off of Guard Convoy!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The fact that you think someone CAN do that is absurd,” Orion noted.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, there he is!” Dion shouted as he pointed to a charcoal bot who was struggling with a chain righting a statue, “Must’ve been on the construction teams today!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Orion raised an optic ridge. He hadn’t seen that mech’s bodytype very often – at least, not in files focused on those mechs’ exploits.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“HEY! MEGGY! WASSUP?” Dion shouted as the mech – ‘Meggy’ – struggled. “IT’S ME! DION!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Dion, call me Meggy again and I’m sticking the next statue on your force-converted alt mode!” was Meggy’s curt response.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So, how’s life out of the mines, now that it’s been a couple months?” Dion asked as he approached.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s nice,” Megatron noted, “Heard the new head of Omnitron got them automated now… But more likely, he’s using some automation to cover up more workers. Meanwhile, the senate’s got us bringing up these dumb statues.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You sure you got that?” Orion asked as he approached, watching the chain, “Statue might be a bit much for just you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ve got this, glasses.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Orion, shrugging, grabbed the chain with a single hand, grip held rigid.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ve said I’ve-“</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Then Orion tugged with just enough force to pull the statue to its erect state.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Huh?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The protective tarp flew off as the statue slammed into place, revealing the form of Guard Convoy, shield held aloft.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“See? Lot works out when people work together,” Orion noted.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What are you,” Megatron asked, “An outlier?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Heh, no, House Pax just has a long line of trucks with incredible strength,” Orion answered, “I might not look it, but I’ve inherited a little bit of that. Not that I really use it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So not a manual bot, then?” Megatron asked, “Well nevertheless, maybe you should consider dabbling in the pits.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, uh, that’s a nice thought, but, uh…” Orion quickly looked for an excuse, “I should actually get to work.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As Orion walked away, he couldn’t help but overhear Dion telling Megatron, “Don’t worry, he’s just heard all the scary stories. I’ll get you a proper introduction next time. Just trust me, you’ll get along. You’ve got some pretty similar ideas, even if Orion doesn’t share it outside of our apartment.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re playing a dangerous game here on Cybertron, and you need to know the rules before you tick someone off,” Kiloton summarized the situation.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That feels like an understatement,” Megatron assessed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That would be the case, yes.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The two of them had rented out a small warehouse for planning. Well, rented out was more an excuse, technically they were squatting in it for a bit.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The way I see it, the companies are the bigger influence on politics. Should we manage to override the system, give the senators some kind of major overruling power compared to the companies, and do this under the radar, we may be able to prevent any major conflict from screwing everything up,” Megatron explained his plan.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Interesting, but hopelessly naïve,” Kiloton noted, “From what I’ve seen, the companies wouldn’t even have influence if the senators were not too focused on their own comfort.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Then how would you fix the system?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’d tear it down, remove the senators, replace them with people that have conviction, and have them kick all outside influence to the curb,” Kiloton replied.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Now who’s being hopelessly naïve?” Megatron asked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, it’s clear we’re just spitballing ideas on how to fix the problem,” Kiloton shot back, “But we don’t know what will work.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s a bit of a problem,” Megatron nodded, “But at least they’re not targeting us as a problem.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That was when the wall behind him exploded.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As Megatron dove for shelter, two hulking Autotrooper tank types painted in a midnight blue color scheme stood in the hole, and between them, a carbot painted in red, white, and with a three-slitted visor, smoking a cy-garette and smirking.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Guess our tip was right after all, boys,” the carbot noted, “Time to collect our bounty.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. CHAPTER05</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <h1>CHAPTER 05</h1><p>
  <em>Written by Stonecrusher and Nemesis Scar</em>
</p><p>“So tell me, who’s the kidnapper here?”</p><p> </p><p>Megatron could only remain silent as he assessed the situation. Standing before him, a red-and-white Cybertronian with an obvious groundrunner alt mode, accompanied by two Autotrooper tanks.</p><p> </p><p>“Was it her?” the car asked.</p><p> </p><p>Megatron’s optic turned to his companion, a firetruck bot with a distinctly unfiretruck-esk color scheme, her expression a grim snarl.</p><p> </p><p>“Evening, officer,” Megatron started talking, “What can I do for you today?”</p><p> </p><p>“Ah, just looking for the bot who dragged you from Messatine to this dump,” the carbot answered, “That’s a pretty serious crime, if you ask me.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, the guy who kidnapped me?” Megatron shrugged, “Managed to kill him before he could sell me as spare parts on the black market. Poor dude was old as dirt. Turned to dust.”</p><p> </p><p>“Ah, good,” the car bot answered, “But it’s unlikely he thought to take you on his own. So, maybe we can work together and figure out who was behind him.”</p><p> </p><p>“…Alright, full disclosure… the kidnapping was staged,” Megatron smirked, “I needed a cheap trip to Messatine, and after the mine I worked at got blown up in a freak accident, I sure as hell didn’t have the money to leave Messatine legally.”</p><p> </p><p>“And you’re behind the accident, huh?” The carbot asked.</p><p> </p><p>“What?” Megatron blinked, “Why the slag would I destroy my mine? Do you realize how crazy you sound?”</p><p> </p><p>“I do, but you’re a terrible actor.”</p><p> </p><p>“But a great distraction,” Kiloton replied, her back-mounted plasma cannon swinging around and blasting the Autotroopers to bits.</p><p> </p><p>The carbot dodged the shots gracefully.</p><p> </p><p>“Geez, lady, calm down, you could hurt someone with that!”</p><p> </p><p>“In this case, it could be a good thing!” Megatron charged, fist clenched.</p><p> </p><p>His attempted punch did technically connect, but what it hit certainly wasn’t solid. More like gaseous particulate.</p><p> </p><p>Gaseous particulate that could move on its own, and pretty quick, circling around Megatron and reforming behind him.</p><p> </p><p>“Too bad, man, you could’ve been dead on if you didn’t talk in a fight,” the carbot grappled his head, kneeing him in the back.</p><p> </p><p>Megatron winced at this, and the carbot returned to his cloudy form to avoid shots from Kiloton.</p><p> </p><p>“No way no way no way no way,” the carbot hissed in a calm manner, “Your gun can’t counter gas, you knockoff.”</p><p> </p><p>“Go solid and come at me, and you may just find my effectiveness on people I can touch to be enlightening!” Kiloton shouted.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re not good at threatening people, faker, so don’t even try!”</p><p> </p><p>“So, you have an… ability to turn to smoke and still yell at people, huh?” Megatron noted.</p><p> </p><p>“We prefer ‘talent,’” the smoke cloud replied.</p><p> </p><p>“Seems like you’re downplaying a quality unique to you,” Megatron pointed out.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, better than making it my only identifier like the Functionists do!”</p><p> </p><p>“Did they send you here on their behalf?” Megatron asked.</p><p> </p><p>“Glitch, they’d murder me if they even thought I have a talent,” the gas cloud hissed, “This is Senate business.”</p><p> </p><p>“Does the senate usually send lapdogs?”</p><p> </p><p>Resolidifying to punch Megatron in the face, the car bot snarled.</p><p> </p><p>“I am no bot’s lap dog,” he replied, “This is merely a job.”</p><p> </p><p>“A job you’re getting emotional about,” Megatron replied, “And that’s your error!”</p><p> </p><p>Megatron felt his colors change, taking on a mostly cardinal color with snow-white highlights.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re trying to hide by going with an electronic paint job or something?” the carbot replied.</p><p> </p><p>“Or something.”</p><p> </p><p>Turning to smoke again, the carbot rolled his head, “Geez, you Messatine bots are naïve-“</p><p> </p><p>He was cut off by Megatron grabbing him by the throat. The throat that wasn’t even solid.</p><p> </p><p>“Naïve, yes, but not stupid,” Megatron replied, having become smoke himself.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re… you’re an evaporator as well?!”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m an evaporator. And a freezer. And so much more!” Megatron replied, ramming him into a nearby wall, his smoke scattering everywhere.</p><p> </p><p>Resolidifying, Megatron cracked his neck.</p><p> </p><p>“Gotta admit, being gas was a… strange experience,” Megatron noted.</p><p> </p><p>“Did you… did you kill him?” Kiloton asked.</p><p> </p><p>“Good question, lemme check,” Megatron waved his hands around.</p><p> </p><p>Rather then the normal effect, the smoke of the carbot reformed into a single mass, resolidifying into a very tired whole.</p><p> </p><p>“Ugh…” the carbot groaned, “Geez, you… you hit hard when you can…”</p><p> </p><p>“He’s solid, we can finish the job now,” Kiloton readied her cannon.</p><p> </p><p>“We could, but we don’t need to,” Megatron approached him, lifting his head up, “He was merely an agent. Following orders from elsewhere. Only those who sent him deserve what you’re planning.”</p><p> </p><p>“You’re being merciful?”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m being pragmatic,” Megatron answered, “Less bullets on the fodder, more on the generals.”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, I’ll be slagged,” the carbot managed to utter, “Guess you’re both tougher and smarter than I thought.”</p><p> </p><p>“That would be the case, yes,” Megatron noted, “You can leave now, and forget this entire situation happened.”</p><p> </p><p>“I could, yeah,” the carbot replied, “Or we could work a deal that’s beneficial to both of us.”</p><p> </p><p>“A deal?” Kiloton asked.</p><p> </p><p>“What’s your name, officer?” Megatron followed up.</p><p> </p><p>“They call me Exhaust,” the carbot smirked.</p><p> </p><p>“What do you have to offer, Exhaust?”</p><p>---</p><p>“Can you repeat what you just said?”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s quite simple, really. I figure that you must’ve read up on some fighting techniques in your time, right?”</p><p> </p><p>“I admit I might’ve.”</p><p> </p><p>“So, might as well put your knowledge to the test.”</p><p> </p><p>Orion looked around the holochamber.</p><p> </p><p>“You sure?”</p><p> </p><p>Ariel smirked.</p><p> </p><p>“Absolutely.”</p><p> </p><p>Orion, seeing no real way out, raised his fists in a combat ready pose.</p><p> </p><p>Ariel, smirk still on, assumed a more graceful one.</p><p> </p><p>Orion was the first to charge. Although his pose was more attuned to a fist-based style, he started with a blunt karate motion.</p><p> </p><p>With graceful precision, Ariel followed with the arc of the arm instead of straight from the elbow to the chest.</p><p> </p><p>Orion quickly moved to parry the strike, but was left stunned at how Ariel reversed the course of his strike, transforming it from a blow that landed directly on his chest to one that deflected it away. His performance was like nothing he had ever seen. Slightly out of breath, Orion was so pleased he couldn't focus on his training anymore.</p><p> </p><p>Ariel wasn’t as impressed.</p><p> </p><p>“Come on, you didn’t even try that time!”</p><p> </p><p>Orion charged again.</p><p> </p><p>Ariel deflected again, this time hefting him over her and to the ground.</p><p> </p><p>“C’mon, stop pretending like you’re gonna hit me and hit me!”</p><p> </p><p>Orion tried to kick at Ariel, but they were imprecise and easily avoided.</p><p> </p><p>“Seriously, dude?”</p><p> </p><p>Orion leaped up and attempted a tackle, which Ariel avoided.</p><p> </p><p>“Whoops!”</p><p> </p><p>Orion turned and tried a punch.</p><p> </p><p>A punch that Ariel soon redirected into him crashing into the ground.</p><p> </p><p>“Was that it?”</p><p> </p><p>“…Yep.”</p><p> </p><p>“You’re not that good at it.”</p><p> </p><p>“Never really tried.”</p><p> </p><p>“Ah well, first time always is flawed, isn’t it?”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, like you’d know,” Orion smirked, “Miss perfect guard.”</p><p> </p><p>Ariel was struck to silence at first… then began cackling a bit, “Oh, man, your movements may be terrible, but that tongue’s a lethal weapon.”</p><p> </p><p>“If mine’s a lethal weapon, Dion’s packing a weapon of mass destruction!” Orion joked.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh please, I’m sure he’d say the same about you.”</p><p> </p><p>And the two began sharing a laugh.</p><p>---</p><p> </p><p>“Senator Codexa, welcome! How can I help you today?”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m here for Termagax.”</p><p> </p><p>“Her… house is down that street over there. Certainly nothing you can miss.”</p><p> </p><p>Codexa’s optics scanned the buildings, until they focused on a singular structure. Unlike the other buildings, square and utilitarian, this building was decorated with designs with a distinct roof, reminding Codexa of a half-rotated Rubix compucube. Atop the building was the statue of a fembot. The figure appeared fragile, in a way that was never either girlish or empty-faced. However, it seemed just a little… inscrutable.</p><p> </p><p>“Ah, ever the standout,” Codexa noted.</p><p>---</p><p>“Have to admit, I wasn’t sure if you’d let me in,” Codexa noted.</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t get that many visitors these days,” the utilitarian ex-senator replied as she welded together another gadget, “Subsenator Ratbat sometimes skulks around, maybe out of curiosity as to what I do, most likely to know when I’m coming back. Had to detonate a shockdrone to scare him off last time, repugnant little monster.”</p><p> </p><p>“So… out of curiosity, what DO you do?” Codexa asked, “What exactly is this?”</p><p> </p><p>“Whatever I want,” Termagax replied, “Research, observation, passing the time of day, calming my nerves, and so on.”</p><p> </p><p>“I see.”</p><p> </p><p>“So, why are you here?”</p><p> </p><p>“I came for insight,” Codexa gave her answer, “I have questions brought on by recent events, and I believe you may give me the answers I need for them. Do you mind if I ask them?”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, go ahead,” Termagax sighed, “Might break the monotony.”</p><p> </p><p>“You started the Ascention movement, but left after a year in the command of your ward, Kiloton. What ideology did you have, if you could boil it down to something simple?”</p><p> </p><p>“…Boiling it down might be redundant, for the movement’s motive was plain to see in the name,” Termagax replied, “The Ascention movement was to free Cybertron from the shackles of overreaching ideology and capitalistic control, allowing it to ascend to a new age.”</p><p> </p><p>“So, basically, you wanted to throw out capitalist control and separate belief and state,” Codexa noted.</p><p> </p><p>“Both influences that meddle in senate affairs,” Termagax noted, “It’s only gotten worst with Sentinel losing the Matrix.”</p><p> </p><p>“Some would argue that these voices are just as right in the song of politics as any citystate.”</p><p> </p><p>“If any capitalist venture had limitless power, it’d have its workers continue to work on its interest until they died on their feet,” Termagax noted, “As for the ideological movement, well, power can be a revealing influence.”</p><p> </p><p>“You worry for the Mistress of Flame’s far-reaching power?”</p><p> </p><p>“Her power is unearned, but she’s static in its use. I merely regard her with caution. I worry more for other, more… proactive ideologies.”</p><p> </p><p>“The Functionist Council being an example?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, those guys.”</p><p> </p><p>“…Are you open for more questions, if I may ask?”</p><p> </p><p>“I have answered three of your questions, so it is only fair if I ask three of my own. May I?”</p><p> </p><p>“If it makes you comfortable,” Codexa replied, bracing herself.</p><p> </p><p>“Is the Age of Expansion celebrated rather than scorned?” Termagax asked, “Have they made any attempts to find the Ores of Desolation? Has Sentinel Prime become any less of an miserable grind since I left the council?”</p><p> </p><p>“…Unfortunately, all those have the same answer of ‘no,’” Codexa replied.</p><p> </p><p>“Mmm. Pity,” Termagax sighed, “You may ask any more questions freely, for those were the only ones on my mind.”</p><p> </p><p>“…There are rumors that the bot that wrote the book you based your ideology on, Toward Peace, has arrived on Cybertron,” Codexa began, “What would be the course of action you would take if that proved to be the case?”</p><p> </p><p>“…Megatron may have written the book that guided my mindset,” Termagax noted, “But his is a lot less forgiving of error. And I fear that if he’s gotten to this world and gotten any degree of the power he needs, there is only one course of action possible.”</p><p> </p><p>“What would that be?”</p><p> </p><p>“Take a page from custom-builds when a Functionary is in the area. Run away. And hope he doesn’t deem you worth chasing.”</p><p>---</p><p>"Good night, Dion," he heard one of his fellow announcers call as he walked out the entrance. Waving, he transformed and drove out. His usual route to the teleportation station - he tended to vary it to throw off any followers. As far as he knew, he was pretty much safe...</p><p> </p><p>A delusion broken quickly when he came across the Functionary cordon. Transforming into robot mode, he skidded to a halt, sparks flying up into the air as he did so. He couldn’t go to ground - not now. There were way too many Functionary optics on him right now. He would have to talk his way through, try as he might. To fail to convince them to let him past would mean...well, he didn’t want to think too hard about that.</p><p> </p><p>"Evening, officer!" Dion called out, "Sorry, seems I might've walked into the wrong alleyway-"</p><p> </p><p>“Citizen! Approach for interrogation!!” One of the Functionaries, a gruff, large ‘mech, barked at him. “At once, Citizen!”</p><p> </p><p>He was the epitome of that class, a muscular ground vehicle body-type covered in navy blue plate with rippled gold shoulderpads. In his left, green-gloved hand, he held a oil-black cinderblock of a handgun. Dion recognized the type from its silhouette. Two dorsal magazines and two ventrals. The Lawgiver, it was called by the underclasses.</p><p> </p><p>Sheepishly, Dion approached. “Yes, officer? How may I help you?” He made his best effort to seem deferential. Autotroopers were utilized by the council as peacekeepers and security detail. In Kaon, they mostly ignored the Gladiatorial Arena as in spite of their illegal nature, they served as a cultural centerpoint and a means of blowing off steam. Functionaries, however, didn’t care if the Senate tolerated it. If the Functionist Council saw fit, these sadists would execute the law - literally.</p><p> </p><p>“This cordon was set up to catch gladiators and other criminals, Terror.” One of the other Functionaries, a femme bearing the shield-badge of the Psi Division of the Functionaries, spoke up. There was a strange, otherworldly air to her, and Dion noticed that her feet were floating a few inches off of the ground. “This one doesn’t look the type. I could probe him if you wish.”</p><p> </p><p>“None of your superstitious mumbo-jumbo, Cassandra.” Terror growled back at his partner. “I can smell the scent of crime,” He asserted. “Sniff it out. This one stinks with i - ”</p><p> </p><p>A shot rang out in the dark, and the night lit up with a muzzle flash. Sniper fire whizzed past the larger of the two Functionaries’ heads. Terror crouched down in a split-second, swearing under his breath.</p><p> </p><p>“Attero dominatus!” A loud voice rang out through the night. He recognized the slogan - it was that of the Rise, a group of anti-government dissidents known for extreme tactics. “Destroy tyranny!”</p><p> </p><p>“Citizen! Get down! Now,” He continued. Though he couldn’t see the Functionary’s optics behind his visor, he could hear the tone of his voice. It was softer, somehow. “Get out of here!”</p><p> </p><p>Now was his chance, Dion thought to himself. He did as he was told. Transforming, he drove off, burning rubber. All the while, stray gunshots from both the Functionaries and their assailants filled the air.</p><p> </p><p>As he departed, though, none noticed the figure watching from the shadows.</p><p> </p><p>"Commander Quake, it seems that our ally has made his getaway. Keep the Functionaries occupied ten more breems, then break it off... but make it look convincing."</p><p> </p><p>"At once, Comrade!"</p><p>---</p><p>Decoed once more in his red-and-white colors, Megatron continued to struggle with his newfound powers of evaporation.</p><p> </p><p>“Try not to force it too much, kid,” Exhaust noted, “Turning to smoke is easy, but turning back is a bit of a struggle.”</p><p> </p><p>“Why is that?” Kiloton asked.</p><p> </p><p>“Well, it’s a matter of solid self-identity,” Exhaust explained, “And that’s something not very common. Evaporation is a talent that not very many bots have, and to regain solidity, one has to have a clear understanding of who they are.”</p><p> </p><p>“In that case, who are you?”</p><p> </p><p>“A simple bot. Distinct color scheme of red accented with white. Love for cygarettes like nobot’s business. And a central idea of making sure the customer’s happy and content.”</p><p> </p><p>“You say that, but you’ve turned on your client.”</p><p> </p><p>“I fed them some bullshit about how my target fell into a mineshaft and is likely dead. They don’t waste resources verifying. I get the money. And I get to see just where Megsy is going with this,” Exhaust clarified, “Of course, all the lying goes nowhere if Megatron ends up stuck in smoke mode forever, but I wouldn’t complain too much on… that…”</p><p> </p><p>Megatron did assume a solid shape again. One that looked like the one he started in… mostly, but Exhaust noticed a cannon similar in design to the Tank Autotrooper’s arm blasters.</p><p> </p><p>“This how you see yourself, Megs?”</p><p> </p><p>“Can be,” Megatron answered.</p><p> </p><p>“Y’gotta be careful. Taking on a new form could corrupt your mind like nobody’s business.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, well… every weapon has its recoil,” Megatron noted, reassuming his original body, “But that doesn’t mean you can’t use it. You just have to know how.”</p><p> </p><p>“Y’sure about that?”</p><p> </p><p>“Trust me, Exhaust,” Megatron smiled, “I’m a quick learner.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. CHAPTER06</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <h1>
  <span>CHAPTER 06</span>
</h1><p>By Devaron09</p><p>
  <span>The Sharkticon’s Gullet. A seedy old bar in the southern blocks of Pescus Hex, surrounded by beaten up old houses, and streets littered with Engex cans, discarded wrappers and the occasional singing drunkard. This would most assuredly not be Orion Pax’s first choice of bar, even if he did like bars. But Megatron had requested they meet up here specifically, and Dion had been eager to come. He wasn’t sure why Megatron wanted to meet so far out of their way, but Orion figured it’d just be nice to catch up. As he waited in a small booth, he watched Dion unsuccessfully try to flex to a pair of colossal female Dinobots. As the two Dinobots laughed and walked off, Dion returned to the table, taking a large swig from his glass as he sat down.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Honestly, they don’t know what they’re missing” Dion said as he sat down.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“In hindsight, maybe trying to show off your strength to a pair of Dinobots wasn’t your best avenue of choice” stated Orion, stirring his non-alcoholic Engex with his finger.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thanks for the advice, Mr Lurrrrrrv” chuckled Dion, putting his glass on the table. “With that expertise, I’m surprised you haven’t given that security guard at your job a key to our apartment.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Orion's face turned bright red at the mention of his colleague. He tried to look elsewhere, anywhere to avoid eye contact with his friend, before settling at staring at a Bufflaloid and a Skunticon playing darts in the corner.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ariel and I are j-just colleagues with a friendly relationship-” Orion stuttered, then corrected himself before Dion could jump in. “Friendly, </span>
  <em>
    <span>working</span>
  </em>
  <span> relationship. It’s strictly professional. Anyway, why did Megatron  want to meet here?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Smooth subject change” Dion said, giving Orion a playful bomp. “Apparently his work’s been taking him places. I bumped into him and one of his ‘colleagues’ while they were doing some recruiting in the dockland sector of Iacon. Turns out he was another pit fighter who I’ve yet to run into, Lugnut. Terrifying guy. He’s colossal, and his eye looks like it’s scanning every bit of you. And those massive claws... I don’t wanna get on the wrong end of them.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes, well Lugnut does like to create a presence” came a familiar voice.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The charcoal form of Megatron squeezed into the booth besides Orion, nuding the table as he sat down.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Apologies for being late, I had a… meeting that overrun” Megatron apologised. “I also have to apologise that I won’t be staying long, got to see someone, and they prefer punctuality. Anyway, how has work been treating you two?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s been alright” said Orion, returning to stirring his drink with his finger. “Alpha’s been keeping me busy with various information compiling jobs.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The docks are going to shit” said Dion, taking another swig of his drink. “My supervisor’s stopped turning up to work, and there’s talk of phasing us out for CC’s.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes, well that’s the sort of thing we aim to change” Megatron stated. “Have any of them read Towards Peace? Perhaps they would be interested in joining our movement.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dion sighed, finishing his glass, before putting it down on the table.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“They’ve read it, and a lot of them do agree with what it says, it’s just… they’re scared of the repercussions. They worry that they’ll be giving the bigwigs a reason to replace them if they, I dunno, strike or protest.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah…” said Megatron, giving a long, hard sigh. “It’s the main obstacle we’ve been running into. In the pits, they’re fighters, they’re prepared to punch people in the face if they dare even look at them funny, but at the end of the day that's a small percentage of the people we’re trying to reach.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, once you get some steam and a larger following, people will probably be more secure to join up with you, knowing how many others are standing alongside them” said Orion, bringing up a holographic chronometer. “Give it time, and they’ll- OH SKRUD!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Orion, for the love of Primus just say scrap, or frag, or something normal” Dion groaned at his friend’s attempt to curse. “We’re all grown ups, no-one’s gonna tell on you to your old headteacher.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We’re late for work!” panicked Orion, climbing over Megatron. “Ohhhhh, Alpha won’t be happy!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Orion climbed out of the booth, bolting out the door in a hurry. Dion shrugged at Megatron, before standing up out of the booth.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’d better go after him and calm him, otherwise he’ll be a wreck before he gets to work” Dion said. “Hoped to stay a little long, with no super, but I think you’ve started to know him.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Then he’ll need these” Megatron replied, picking up some files from where Orion had sat.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Heh, thanks, I’ll get them back to him” chuckled Dion. “Not good for an archivist, eh? Anyway, sorry to bail on you, but it’s been a pleasure as always. Maybe next time we should try for Orion’s day off.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dion gave Megatron a two-finger salute, before bolting out the door to give chase to his panicked friend. Megatron looked back at the table, where Orion’s glass was still full. Megatron picked it up and took a swig, before spewing the whole mouthful out.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Bleh, non-alcoholic Engex” Megatron said in disgust. “Orion, you’re nice, but frankly your taste in drinks is absolutely terrible.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With that, Megatron stood up from the table and left the bar, heading to his next appointment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A short walk away from the bar, Megatron walked past a seeming disused storeyard. Coming up to one of the rusted warehouses, Megatron looked around, then rapped his clenched fist against its metal door in a particular rhythm. After a few seconds, the door slid open with a loud screech, and Megatron entered. The door screeched shut behind him, and Megatron stepped forward. There were a number of individuals in the room, some he recognised, some he didn’t. Exhaust stood behind Megatron, standing at the door controls, while Soundwave and Lugnut turned from a trio of new bots, who Megatron could vaguely recognise from his own experiences in the pits.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Megatron” Soundwave greeted in his cold voice. “New recruits: acquired.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Soundwave first gestured to a hulking dark green Cybertronian, with a muzzled tank barrel attached to his back. He stepped forward, and nodded at Megatron.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Designation: Brawl.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Lemme know if you need me to bust some heads” said Brawl. “I’ve been itching to for ages, especially since they won’t let me into the Defense Corp.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, for now fighting will be unnecessary provided the Cybertronian government don’t respond to our movement with violence” replied Megatron. “But I appreciate the support all the same.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Next, Soundwave gestured to blue and orange Primatoid, who sported a massive construction scoop arm. He clenched his scoop arm, engulfing it in amber flames.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Designation: Groundpounder” stated Soundwave. “Classification: Pyrokinetic.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“A pyrokinetic” said Megatron, staring curiously at the flaming scoop. “I’ve heard Cybertronians with pyrokinesis are rather reliable to have on your side.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Send me in the direction of a group of Autotroopers, and I can really show you reliable” grinned Groundpounder.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Finally, Soundwave gestured to the last of the new arrivals, a tall, black, blocky individual with two red optic bars in lieu of a face. The Cybertronian immediately knelt down and tilted their head down.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Designation: Blackwall” Soundwave stated, looking down at the Cybertronian. “Classification: Hyper Durable.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“My Lord Megatron!” yelled Blackwall. “I swear undying loyalty to you and the cause, now and forever.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Though Megatron was amused by this show of loyalty, though behind him, Lugnut was not. He clenched his claws and scowled, glaring at Blackwall. Next to him, Exhaust simply rolled his eyes at having to deal with yet another sycophant. Megatron then turned to Soundwave.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What of Grindor?” Megatron asked. “Has he made any progress with his own recruitment?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Current status: Recruiting fighters in Tesarus” Soundwave responded. “Potential recruits: Overcharge. Overkill. Slugfest. Lowload. Irontread. Utilisation of unconventional tactics.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Unconventional tactics?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Basically he’s buying them drinks to get them on side” Exhaust explains. “Just as sign of comradeship, not just trying to get them drunk enough to agree to it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Can we afford that?” questioned Megatron.”I know we don’t exactly have a budget, but surely we can’t do this for everyone we try to recruit?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Relax, Grindor’s gone to his old local, the Greasy Axel. The bartender knows him.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So he gets it discounted?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nope! The bartender knows that if he doesn’t agree to free drinks, he’ll lose more money when Grindor starts a bar fight that wrecks the joint. It gets results.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Megatron let out a deep sigh, and sat down on a crate.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m glad we are recruiting, but it's a slow process” Megatron stated. “People are still scared to come out against the government and their corruption. They’re frightened. A friend said once we get numbers, we will see an exponential rise, but there has to be a way to do it quicker.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well…” began Exhaust. “If we need quick numbers, I might be able to make a suggestion.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Go on…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, there are those who might be interested in joining if we provide them some…. Incentive. They might not be quite as savoury as you like, but they’ll be able to provide a substantial amount of members quickly. Then, once your readers see us with numbers, they’ll flock to us.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And what do you suggest we incentivise them with” said Megatron.”Primus knows we don’t have the shannix, and promising them power would be undoing the change we hope to make.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, that bit is easy” says Exhaust. “Explain it like an investment, and if they help us it’ll be worth it in the end. Say that by the end of it, you’ll give them immunity, or a colony for themselves. Then when you’re done and dusted, just lock ‘em back up and say that we now know they were out for their own ends and put ‘em behind bars.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Megatron looked at Soundwave, who stroked the chin of his faceplate. After a few moments of silence, Soundwave spoke up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Suggestion: Some potential” he stated. “Moderate chance of success.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hrrm… who do you suggest we should visit, Exhaust?” Megatron asked, musing the idea. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, I have worked for potential groups and syndicates that you could visit” Exhaust said. “I still have communications channels to Cryotek, Sky Shadow, Stonecrusher and Razorpaw, though the latter won’t do much help since Cryotek absorbed his syndicate and left Razorpaw to fend for himself. I might also be able to pull a few strings with some drinking buddies on Khoros and see if I can find out if Straxus and Psykill got contact channels, see if their syndicates are still in the game.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Having been watching silently since his introduction, Brawl stepped forward and raised his hand up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Look, I’m generally not the smartest of guys, but a few of those I vaguely recognise from the Combatron Days” Brawl stated. “Maybe ye can appeal to ‘em with a bit of amnesty. I doubt Guard Convoy or the Senate’s offered it to them, so maybe offering it’ll get ‘em on side?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Megatron looked a little surprised at the tank bots suggestion, but couldn’t deny that it had substance to it. Standing up, he looked at Soundwave and nodded.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes… that could work” he said. “Good thinking, Brawl.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Brawl blushed beneath his faceplate at the compliment, as both Lugnut and Blackwall glared at him, now seeing another perceived rival for Megatron’s favour. Soundwave looked at the ground, then back to Megatron, something playing on his mind.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“With new directions: Another potential avenue” stated Soundwave, thoughtfully.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh?” Megatron said, curiously. “Do tell?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Potential ally: former senator” Soundwave stated. “Official released statement by senate: ‘voluntary sabbatical until further notice’. His goals plus our goal: correlate. Method: change within the senate. Absence from public eye: Potentially removed by other senators. May however still hold political sway over constituents: further potential allies.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And do you know what this senator may be?” asked Megatron.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Potential leads: One. Will investigate with haste.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Good. Lugnut and I will begin investigating Exhaust’s suggested allies” says Megatron. “Exhaust, I suggest you take Brawl and find your own leads on Straxus and Psykill. Perhaps you should also see if they know any other groups that can aid us. Blackwall, Grounderpounder, I suggest you return to the pits and continue your regular routines till I contact you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We will not let you down, my Lord!” announced Blackwall with a salute.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Exhaust reopened the door to the warehouse, and he watched Blackwall and Groundpounder depart, then followed them himself with Brawl, leaving Megatron, Soundwave and Lugnut in the room.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, I wish you the best of luck, Soundwave” Megatron said.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Luck: Unnecessary” Soundwave replied. “Critical recommendation: Exercise extreme caution. Potential for capture by syndicates.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ll be careful” Megatron replied. “Plus, they’re dealing with two pit fighters. They won’t get us.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Acknowledged” stated Soundwave. “Enacting departure.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Soundwave stepped outside of the warehouse, then shifted into his Jet mode, flying skywards, before disappearing behind the opposite city. Lutnut and Megatron finally stepped out, and Megatron reached his arm to hit the close switch for the door. As the door screeched shut behind them, Lugnut looked at Megatron.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What are your orders, my most glorious Lord Megatron?” asked Lugnut, clearly riled by Blackwall.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Just, erm, Megatron will do” corrected Megatron. “And now we get to work!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Orion rushed into archives, almost tripping on the stairs as he ran through, all the while scooting by his colleagues and those browsing the archives. Thankfully for Orion, Ariel was taking a few days off, so she wasn’t going to say, and Alpha was nowhere in sight. Finally arriving at his desk, he sat down, breathing a sigh of relief, and clipped in his headset. Putting his files on his desk as the familiar voice of the AI greeted him yet again. Settled in, Orion began logging into his terminal to begin work.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Not like you to be late, Orion?” came a familiar voice.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Orion’s jumped in his chair in a panic, before slowly turning around to face the owner of the voice. Standing behind him was Alpha Trion, his arms folded.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I, um, I didn’t see you, I, umm, sorry” Orion spluttered. “I was meeting a friend a way away, they were later, meaning I was late, then the intercity shuttles took ages, and there was a conjunx endura ceremony taking up my usual route, and they were doing repairs on the main road, and…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alpha cracked a smile at Orion’s attempt to explain things, patting him on the shoulder. Breathing in, Orion adjusted his glasses.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Calm down, Orion” Alpha said. “It happens to us all. Why I once disappeared for a whole week because of a fascinating discovery on one of the other moons of the gas giant Caminus orbits! Marvelous time, and marvelous company But I digress. Now that you’re here, I need you to compile data on something. ”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Of course, Alpha Trion, sir” Orion said, a little more at ease now.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We’ve had a request for data on one of the Convoy’s” Alpha explained, walking around the room. “A research project of Convoys between Talarus and Arch Convoy. Now they’ve got the data they need for all of them, but-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Orion watched Alpha vanish behind one of the many shelves of data drives filling the archive. He waited patiently for Alpha Trion, a little concerned that Alpha seemed to have walked out of the earshot. Orion stood up from his desk, and walked over to the end of the shelf that Alpha disappeared behind. Peeking round, he couldn’t see Alpha Trion anywhere.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Can you do that for me” came Alpha’s voice from behind him, yet again startling Orion. “All the information on that particular Convoy. Think you can handle it?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I, erm,yes?” Orion timidly said.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Excellent!” said Alpha Trion, clapping his hands together. “Well, if you’ve got everything handled here, I’ve got a meeting with some records recently found in the scar from Battle Convoy’s era. Mayhaps they will tell us what dug so deeply into Cybertron! Cheerio, Orion!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With that, Alpha left the room, leaving Orion to bury his hands in his head, with no idea what Convoy he was meant to be pulling data out on. With a heavy sigh, he looked at his terminal’s holographic screen, ready for a long few days' work.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>---</b>
</p><p>
  <span>The Flash Freeze. The coldest bar on Cybertron. Megatron and Lugnut stood in front of the bar, looking at its front and the thin layer of ice that covered it. The entire block was frozen over, which was peculiar due to it being situated in Teasurus, a city closer to Cybertron’s equator than either of its poles. However, those in the know knew that this was no freak blizzard. This was marked territory. And the pair were about to meet the Cybertronian who had marked it as his own. Megtron and Lugnut stepped into the bar, finding it relatively empty. Inside, the only other people present were a group of four Skunkticons, guzzling tankard after tankard of cheap engex, while another Skunkticon, an Ampiboid and a Winded Rodention were standing around a pool table, angrily bickering with each other, and at the bar, glasses were being washed by a white and blue Cybertronian, with two ice blue tanks of an unknown substance poking out of his back exerting a cold mist into the room. As Megatron and Lugnut walked up to the bar, the white and blue mech looked up to them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We’re here to see Cryotek” Megatron said, sitting on one of the stools.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Never heard of him” said the bartender with a cold, staticky voice.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Megatron frowned as Lugnut attempted to sit on one of the other stools, slowly crushing it with his weight. Megatron folded his arms, and tried again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I said we’re here to see Cryotek” Megatron repeated. “We arranged a meeting. Ask Exhaust.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And I told you, we don’t know no Cryotek” the bartender said again, more aggressively than before. “Nor do we know no Exhaust. Now if you’re not ordering, I’ll have to ask you to-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The bartender stopped abruptly, and raised his hand to his audio receptor. After a few moments of silence, he returned his attention to Megatron and Lugnut.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Apologies” stated the bartender. “The boss will see you now. If you’ll follow me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The bartender lifted the bar flap to allow Megatron and Lugnut through as the pair stood up, he looked at the crumpled stool Lugnut stood up from, muttering something to himself, before turning to a door in the corner. Taking some bottles off a nearby shelf, uncovered an optic scanner and stared into it. After a few seconds, there was a click, and the door unlatched. The bartender led them through the door and down a series of stairs. Reaching the bottom, they found themselves in a basement the size of a large warehouse. There were crates everywhere, and Megatron hazarded to guess what was in them were a lot more dangerous than Engex deliveries. Various Cybertronians were hanging around, some stacking crates, some simply observing the newcomers, and some of them armed with weapons that certainly weren’t used by the Cybertron Defense Corp. However, all of them were wearing poncho’s, none of them used to the extreme cold of this establishment. Passing through the large basement, the bartender led them to a doorway with the name “Cryotek” engraved to it. The bartender clanged his fist against the door to announce his present.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Enter” came a gruff voice from within.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The bartender opened the door, and stood to the side as Megatron and Lugnut entered. The room was a large office, with plexiglass cabinets on either side containing various treasures, including antique weaponry, battle masks, and ornate endoskeleton skulls from various rare mechanimals, including some Megatron believed were recently extinct. At the far end of the room was a large, draconic mech sitting at a desk, typing on a holographic screen, whom Megatron figured was Cryotek. To Cryotek’s side was a dark green orange mech, clearly guarding Cryotek. Much like his allies outside, this mech was wearing a poncho.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Your guests, sir” said the bartender.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Very good” replied Cryotek. “You may go, Lodowiec.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The bartender nodded, then left the room, shutting the door behind him. Cryotek stood up from his desk, and stretched his wings out. Dwarfing Megatron and standing as tall as Lugnut, he walked around his desk and towards Megatron till he was staring down at him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And who are you supposed to be?” Cryotek said, breathing out icy clouds every time he opened his mouth.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He is Lord Megatron, the leader who will bring a new age of unity to Cybertron” yelled Lugnut.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Was I asking you?” scowled Cryotek, before turning back to Megatron, looking him up and down. “You don’t look like much of a leader. What do you think, Backslash?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Look pretty weak” said the guard by Cryotek’s desk. “Reckon anything he’s got planned’ll be stopped dead in the snow.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So what do you want, oh glorious Megatron” Cryotek grinned. “Why do you come to me?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What I want is for you to aid us” said Megatron. “I want to change Cybertron for the better, removing the corrupt government ruling over the Commonwealth. With your, help we can do that!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Lofty goals” said Cryotek, stroking his chinplate. “But why on Cybertron would I help you? What’s in it for me?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If you help us change Cybertron, we can provide you with immunity” Megatron said. “No trouble from the new government.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Cryotek returned to his desk, and lounged back into his seat, resting his legs on the desk and resting his arms on the back of his head.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Maybe I’m content as is” Cryotek said, leaning back. “I can pay off whatever cops come across us, I got multiple boltholes, and if anyone were to be stupid enough to try to blackmail me, Backslash here’ll cut you down before you’ve even turned around. Just saying.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You dare refuse an offer from-” Lugnut began yelling, before Megatron raised his hand to quiet him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You can keep dodging the law, but you won’t be able to do it forever” Megatron stated. “One day you’ll trip up. At least this way you’ll get guaranteed security, if you aid us.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Cryotek sat up straight and frowned. He thought for a moment, then spoke.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Backslash is right. You don’t seem like much. You have nothing to prove your strength.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Megatron was taken back by this. He wasn’t expecting his strength to be called into question, figuring the promise of immunity would be enough to get Cryotek on side. He needed something, quickly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“GRARGH!” roared Lugnut, shaking his clenched claws at Cryotek. “Lord Megatron is one of the finest fighters ever produced! He could wipe the floor with anyone sent at him.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ya see, boss!” exclaimed Backslash. “He needs his big thick babysitter to defend him!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, if you really think that, perhaps we’ll have to prove you wrong” said Megatron. “Do you know of the Lacero Pit?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Kaon, correct?” answered Cryotek. “I know of it from some of my enforcers.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If you really wish to see how formidable, I invite you to watch the finest of Cybertron show their strength in the pits” Megatron said. “No holds barred. Two weeks time.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Cryotek stroked his chin plate again, intrigued. Looking between Megatron and Lugnut, he smiled.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Very well,” Cryotek replied. “I will. It will be interesting to see if you’re as strong as you and your oversized grunt say you are.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Excellent,” said Megatron. “I’ll have my people send your people the coordinates and exact times. A pleasure meeting you, Cryotek.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Likewise.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And with that, Lugnut and Megatron departed out the door, leaving Cryotek and Backslash alone in the room.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You sure this is a good idea?” questioned Backslash. “Could be a sting. Or a takeover.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, it’s either free entertainment” smirked Cryotek. “Or he’ll just have to learn about our strength.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>In his hand, Cryotek formed an icicle, clenching it like a blade. Backslash grinned gleefully at the sight, rubbing his hands together in anticipation.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And he’ll learn what happens to those who doublecross us.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Meanwhile, Megatron and Lugnut exited the bar and return to the frozen streets. Lugnut seemed a little confused as they made their way to their next destination.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You look confused, Lugnut” Megatron said.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I just was not aware we were hosting any fighting events” Lugnut said, scratching his head. “I had not been informed.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, we weren’t until now” replied Megatron. “But we needed to keep Cryotek interested, and if a show of power is required, then it’s our best method. You’d better contact Kiloton, see if she can swing something with Lacero. And tell Blackwall, Brawl, Groundpounder and hopefully Grindor’s buddies to prepare for a fight in two weeks.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Of course my lord, I shall contact them enroute” Lugnut said. “Speaking of, who's next my lord?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Megatron pulled out a datapad, tapping the screen and swiping his fingers till he came to another set of co-ordinates.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, our next stop is one ‘Stonecrusher’” Megatron said. “Exhaust co-ords put his meeting place in the dockyards, in an old admin office. Let’s go!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“For glory!” yelled Lugnut.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Maybe a little more quietly” said Megatron.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With that, the two continued to their next destination, hoping to expand their cause further.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was late. The streets of Carpessa were quiet, only illuminated by the streetlamps. On one of the buildings, Soundwave patiently waited for who he was waiting to speak with. He had briefly mused scanning one of the streetlights, but decided that people would notice a new streetlight, and there was nowhere to hide one without it drawing attention. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After a few more hours, he finally spotted his target. A purple treadcrawler vehicle drove through the streets at pace, quickly turning off into an alleyway. Not wishing to lose his target, Soundwave used his thrusters to slowly descend to street level, before walking across the street and peering around the corner. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The treadcrawler drove towards a chain link fence, the chains simply rattling over the top of it, before changing form at a side door. The resulting mech was tall and lanky, with sharp claws on both hands, It crouched down, getting the bottom pairs of claws under the door, and lifting the door up with immense force. The mech then entered, the door slamming behind it with a loud crash. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Waiting a few seconds to ensure the mech didn’t come back, Soundwave followed the mech through the alley, flying over the chain fence, and coming to the door. The door did seem to have a palm scanner, however it had been slashed, likely by the mechs claws. Fortunately, it was still intact enough for Soundwave to hack. A single tendrill slithered from Soundwave’s back, and clamped onto the damage scanner.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Commencing hack” Soundwave stated to himself as he broke through the locks on the door.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After a few seconds, the door slid open, and Soundwave stepped through. The room he entered was a hall, with metal columns throughout the room. The walls and floors had energon smeared across them, and random mechanisms littered the floor. Soundwave walked into the next room, where equations were scratched into the wall. There were tables around the wall with contraptions littered across them. The mech he had followed was straight ahead of him, working at one of these tables.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You were detected before you detected me” stated the mech. “There is a talent dampening field in effect, if you wish to attack me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The mech gestured upwards, and Soundwave looked up to the ceiling. Above them was a jury-rigged device made of various other technologies. Looking at it, Soundwave recognised parts from a portable shield generator and an inhibitor claw. He then returned his gaze to the mech.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Intention: Non-Violent” Soundwave stated. “Designation: Soundwave. Mission: Recruitment.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Recruitment?” questioned the mech, still working at the table, not giving Soundwave a glance. “I have no intention of joining any groups. My only cause is science.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Cause: Revolution” Soundwave coldly said. “Revolution: Betterment of Cybertron. Expulsion of Corruption. Parallels noted to your purpose.“</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The mech stopped working on the device in front of him, and growled. He was silent for a few moments.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Science is my purpose” the mech bitterly stated. “You are thinking of someone else.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Negative: You are on and the same individual” Soundwave stated. “Senator Shockwave.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I AM NO SENATOR!!!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The mech whipped round, glaring at Soundwave with a single red optic. The mech was shivering with anger, and in his optic Soundwave could see a rage like no other.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The senate… are fools” Shockwave growled. “They see only themselves.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Observation: Similar verdicts” Soundwave stated. “Mission: Remove Senate from power. Endgame: Save Cybertron.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shockwave looked down, before turning around to continue with his work. Soundwave took a few steps to the side to see past Shockwave’s, and identify what he was working on. On the table was a strange forearm, yet in place of a hand, it seemed to have some sort of port. Next to it lay what looked like the barrel of a gun, with a plug that looked to fit the port. Shockwave grabbed the barrel, and plugged it into the forearm.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The people of Cybertron don’t deserve saving” Shockwave stated. “It is… logical.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shockwave turned around to face Soundwave, and grabbed onto his own forearm. Soundwave watched as Shockwave pulled on his arm, ripping it out, and allowing Energon to stream onto the floor. Shockwave simply tossed his severed arm to the floor, never breaking Soundwave’s gaze.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Unless you are going to contribute to the cause of science, I suggest you leave, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Soundwave” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Shockwave snarled.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Acknowledged.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As Shockwave turned to attach the new blaster arm, Soundwave departed, musing what his next move would be…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dion twisted and turned on his recharge pad. It was late, he had done a long day of dockwork, loading crates onto carriers while also compensating for his missing supervisor. And yet Orion was still up, tapping furiously on his datapad and muttering loudly to himself. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh for PRIMUS SAKE” Dion yelled, finally fed up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He unhooked himself from his recharge pad, and stormed towards the door, kicking away the various objects he had piled against the bottom of the door to stop the light from pouring through the crack at the bottom and opened the door. Coming into their living space, Dion found Orion sitting cross legged on their couch, surrounded by multiple holographic screens, with the same still glass of non-alcoholic Engex sitting on the table that was there when Dion went to recharge.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“ORION PAX!” Dion yelled, at the end of his tether, causing Orion to fall off the couch. “WHY ARE YOU STILL AWAKE?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I, um, well I have a lot of work that I really need to get through” Orion tried to explain. “And it’s a big project in that’s needed in a few days, and-and-and-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dion groaned, and simply walked over to the couch, and grabbed the computer core from Orion’s hands, the cords pulled out of the socket and he picked it up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nonono wait!” begged Orion, pulling himself off of the floor.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dion walked back to his room with the core, then stood in front of the door.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You get this back when you recharge, Orion,” Dion said. “Because A: I want a good night’s rest after a stressful day, and B: I don’t want you dropping cos you didn’t recharge, okay?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Good” Dion said. “G’night Orion.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Night Dion” Orion relented as his friend went into his room, and the door shut behind him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Orion mopily walked to his room, opening the door, and plugging himself in as thoughts raced through his head about his work, and the deadlines, and the fact he couldn’t even ask Alpha what he said. Orion sighed, and tried to drift off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Some days had passed since they began their recruitment drive, and Megatron had multiple successes in convincing various syndicates to attend his little arena event. So far they had managed to invite Cryotek, Stonecrusher, Straxus and Psykill, but also attracted the attention of several smaller groups including Deathsaurus and Scorponok. However this last individual had proved harder to find, in spite of Exhaust saying he had his comms channel. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Finally tracking him down to a spaceport in Triax, Megatron approached a colossal cruiser in one of the city’s docks. Though he couldn’t be sure, Megatron believed it to be a Goliath-Class cruiser that had been demilitarised, though given the owner, it was likely there were still some concealed armaments. The ship was coated in black, with red detailing, matching the colours of its owner.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are you sure it’s worth approaching his group, my lord?” Lugnut questioned as they walked past several smaller ships parked alongside it. “I hear rumours the leader of this syndicate consorted with an Autobot. They could betray us.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I too have heard similar rumours, Lugnut” Megatron stated. “Though as I understand, there have been little changes with his operations. I assume he’s keeping work and consorting apart from whoever it is, so we should be safe.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If you say so, Lord Megatron” Lugnut replied.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So…” came a voice from above. “You’re the famous Megatron.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Megatron and Lugnut looked up, and saw a blue mech standing atop one of the ships they were passing. The mech leaped down from the ship and onto the ground in front of the pair, pointing a blaster pistol at the two.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You knew we were coming, hmm?” questioned Megatron. “Peculiar, given you’ve changed your comms channel.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We always wipe comms channels after a job” the blue mech said. “It’s better for business. But we have people to find out things for others. We heard about you making the rounds since Tesarus, so we figured you’d be coming here.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And yet you seem to loading your ships” Lugnut stated, observing crates being loaded onto the ships. “Running scared of us? Seems you’re a bit too late to avoid us.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Scared?” Of you? Nah, we figured we’d give you a chance to speak your piece, then load out on the off chance you’d give us up to the Defense Corp. Gotta be safe.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hence pointing the blaster pistol at us?” replied Megatron</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hence pointing the blaster at you. Now come on, don’t want to keep the boss waiting.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The blue mech gestured for the pair to walk towards one of the ramps onto the large Goliath. The pair obliged, and the blue mech followed them up the ramp and through the ship's corridors. Eventually, they came to a large metal door, guarded by a pair of black and red mechs.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Dreadnought, Ominus, the boss’ guests are here” said the blue mech.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The taller of the mechs turned around and placed her palm on a scanning pad. The door slid open, and Megatron, Lugnut and the blue mech entered. The room was empty, save for a viewport letting in light, and a tall mech leaning against it. He was large, with two pronounced wings along his shoulders, either shoulder. As he moved away from the window, his black and red colour scheme became visible.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Brought your guests, boss” said the blue mech.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thanks Bacchus” said the mech. “I think we can holster the blaster. I mean, if he used the small one as fodder, the big one could’ve probably overpowered you by now.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“FODDER!?” yelled Lugnut. “HOW DARE YOU IMPLY THAT I WOULD PUT THE MIGHTY MEGATRON INTO HARM’S WAY!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Megatron silenced Lugnut with a look as Bacchus holstered his blaster. Megatron stepped forward.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sky Shadow, I presume?” he asked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That would be correct” the black and red mech replied. “And I hear you’re handing out invites to a fight. Why?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“FOR THE GLORIOUS REVOLUTION!” yelled Lugnut.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I have no idea how a fighting tournament ties into a revolution” Sky Shadow groaned. “Would you care to elaborate?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We are trying to change Cybertron, and with your support we can do that” Megatron stated. “With your help, we can remove the senate from power and install a newer, better system.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Curious, curious, and why would I help you do that?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Amnesty, protection” said Megatron. “I know a lot of ex-Combatronians and those with Combatronian heritage would love the opportunity to be treated like any other Cybertronian and not hid in the underworld of Cybertron.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sky Shadow stroked his chin, musing this proposition.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And how does this tie into pit fights?” Sky Shadow questioned.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Those we’ve talked to seem to doubt we have the strength to carry through with our aims” Megatron stated, slamming his fist into an open hand. “This will crush their doubts.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hmmm… I’ll bite” Sky Shadow said. “Though believe me, you won’t like it if we get double crossed.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Believe me, that is the last thing we want,” Megatron replied. “I look forward to seeing you in attendance.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With that, Megatron and Lugnut departed, followed by Bacchus, wishing to ensure they left without any funny business. Alone, Sky Shadow returned to the window and looked out.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, this should be interesting,” he said to himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ariel strolled back into the Iacon Archive after taking a few days off. It had been nice to unwind, now it was back to regular life, with her trusty spear and shield at her side. Waving to the usual desk attendant as she passed, she went down stairs to her usual post, and say hi to Orion and Alpha. However, when she entered, she was shocked to find Orion with his face planted into the desk, surrounded by almost a dozen different holographic screens.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh Primus!” she yelled, rushing over to him. “Alpha!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Rushing to his side, she shook him to try to get a response out of him. One loud snore revealed he was merely asleep. Alpha arrived, surprised to find Orion in this state.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He’s fast asleep” she said. “What happened while I was gone?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alpha looked at Orion’s comatose state, then put on his glasses and looked at Orion’s multiple screens. Alpha sighed as he realised what happened.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh dear” he said. “I fear this may be partially myself.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Did you give him a job and wander off while talking again?” Ariel said, frowning at Alpha. “You know he can never bring himself to ask someone to repeat themselves.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Apologies” sighed Alpha. “I supposed you’d better get him home. Do you know where it is?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes, we’ve passed by there” Ariel said. “His orange friend who works at the docks kept nudging him. I’ve no idea why.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Good, good” Alpha said. “Make sure you get him in there safely. I’ll finish Orion’s project.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ariel picked up Orion from the seat, and began carrying him out of the archives. Watching them leave, Alpha then sat down in Orion’s chair. He looked between the various holographic screens, impressed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“My word Orion, you have been busy” Alpha said. “One Prime, and somehow you managed to cover all of them from Battle Convoy to Arch Convoy. Very well done, too. You’ll most certainly make one of our finest.”</span>
</p><p>
  <b>---</b>
</p><p>
  <span>Shockwave worked away at one the tables in the room on another tool for his recently attached forearm. He was distracted from his work by the sound of the door screeching open. Shockwave listened to the footsteps entering the room.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I told you that I’m not interested in your revolution” Shockwave growled.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The footsteps came closer, before stopping just behind him. A pair of objects flew past Shockwave and landed on the table. Looking at it, Shockwave recognized them as a pair of replacement hands.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“One will suffice” Shockwave said, picking one up with his claws.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Proposition: reconsideration?” inquired the cold voice of Soundwave.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I will not join your revolution” Shockwave answered, “But I may show interest in exchanging resources. A mutually beneficial alliance.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Soundwave pondered this proposition for a few moments.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Proposition: Acceptable” he stated. “I will inform Megatron.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It is the logical decision,” Shockwave said, admiring the new hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After another day’s work, Dion returned to his apartment. Pulling his keycard out, he was about to unlock the door, when he noticed it was slightly ajar. Nudging it open, he entered the door to the sound of loud snoring. Dion crept in, and found a note on the table in their shared living space. Picking it up, Dion began reading through the note.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“‘Dear Orange Carbot’” Dion began. “That’s nice, don’t know my name. ‘Orion passed out due to overworking himself. Brought him home, plugged him into his recharge pad. Apologies for busting the locks.’”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dion looked back at the door, and saw broken parts littering the floor. He sighed, thinking of the cost of repair.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“‘Yours, Ariel.’ Welp, at least someone else understands Orion needs to recharge, like every other Cybertronian.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dion put the note down and walked towards the door, thinking about sliding the table up against it to keep it shut through the night. As he walked over, he noticed a holoprojector sitting on the table. Dion cautiously reached his finger over and tapped the button to activate it. A hologram of Megatron appeared to Dion.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Dion, Orion, I invite you to the Lacero Pit in one week to help set up a spectacle in fighting that will hopefully lead to the evolution of our cause” the hologram stated. “In one week, the revolution will grow exponentially. And with it, we will be able to fight for the betterment of Cybertron!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her vents expelled waste air as her circuits decompressed. Optics facing forward against her felled opponent, the blue femme sighed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"That time was certainly pleasant to see," the voice caught her attention, "Prep for the next one."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Mother," She spoke up, "We've been doing 20 in a row. At some point, we need to take some time to decompress, less we wear ourselves thin unnecessarily."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Better we wear outselves thin then let the bastard that killed your father function," The voice responded, "You want to know why your father is dead?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Because he decided to attack an enemy without assessing the actual threat level," She answered.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Yes," The voice replied, "And he decided not to asses the danger because he got complacent. Because he felt that he didn't need to worry about what an inferior could do."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I understand!" She spat, "You have made that point the last three times I asked for a moment to catch my breath! And the five I asked yesterday, and the four the day before! What point is there in this training if it ends up killing me, Mother?!"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The voice did not respond immediately.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"...I... I just was-"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Call me mother, do you?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She gasped a bit.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"If you went up against him as you are, at this very moment, he wouldn't hesitate to leave you lying in your own blood," The voice spoke again, "Assuming that someone else didn't decided to use your corpse as experiment fodder or a plaything. This applies not only to yourself, but the countless others your enthusiasm would've likely rubbed off on. Idiot see idiot, and idiot do as idiot do."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The images in her mind flashed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Our enemies will not rest until they achive their goal, and neither should we," the voice spoke up, "But if you want to rest so badly... maybe I should make a correction as to which of my daughters lies in the sleeping pod."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"DON'T YOU FRACKING DARE!!!" Chromia swung her arm forward, pointed at the window. At that instant, cerulean ice particles immediately expanded and broke through the protective barriers keeping her mother safe, just barely glazing her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A still moment.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Snowflake. Stays. Asleep," Chromia spat, "I. Handle. The problem."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Another still moment... only interrupted by a cold chuckle.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Well..." the current head of House Winter smirked at the sight, "Where has THIS Chromia been, all this time...?"</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. CHAPTER07</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <h1>
  <span>CHAPTER 07</span>
</h1><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m not sure it’s a good idea, Dion,” Orion made his opinion known.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why not? I mean, would it not be rude to turn down an invite?” Dion asked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“In one week, our revolution will grow exponentially,” Orion replied, “That’s a quote from the invite. Sounds to me like he’s planning something that bodes ill.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He did say he’s seeking out the betterment of Cybertron.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And the Functionists do too,” Orion noted, “And everyone hates those guys on an intrinsic level.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, but those guys are nuts,” Dion replied.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So is everyone else in someone else’s eyes,” Orion replied back.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“...So, what did you have planned that could beat this?” Dion asked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Orion answered with silence, pondering possible answers…</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You don’t have anything.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Shut up,” Orion snapped back.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Look, we’ll just swing by real quick, see a few guys beat each other to rivets, grab a handful of energon chips and blow out of there,” Dion proposed, “That way you can have plausible deniability, okay?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“...Fiiiiiiine,” Orion answered.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Alright, so… meet me at the teleport station after work?” Dion asked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Unless I change my mind,” Orion replied.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thanks, roomie!” Dion smirked, “You won’t regret it!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Orion knew he would regardless.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The week passed without incident, and without giving Orion a reason to stay behind. He knew that even if he tried claiming that something came up, Dion would annoy his superiors for information and risk Orion being punished. It happened before, it could happen again, and he was not going to risk a repeat.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After clocking out that day, Orion rolled his way to the teleport station… unaware of his trail being followed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Enforcer Ariel, Log 57 - subject has taken a route atypical, heading for downtown Iacon. Tracking now.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ariel had been assigned this duty to keep an eye on Orion - why was a question she often pondered but never had the nerve to ask. But up until now, his actions had been… ordinary, normal.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Up until he went to the teleportation station and met the orange carbot.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So you did come after all!” Dion smiled, “Glad to see it!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, I couldn’t find an excuse not to,” Orion replied.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You could’ve just said you and Ariel were going out on a date, y’know,” Dion teased.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That would be dishonest and… unprofessional,” Orion stammered.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, yeah, save the denials for if people ask if you’ve been to Kaon,” Dion sighed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ariel was admittedly put off guard by Dion’s teasing, but the Kaon comment brought her back on track. She had been informed that Dion pops by Kaon for additional work, but it still puzzled her why Orion would go to that hellscape willingly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A flash of teleportation energy erupted from the station’s top, as it usually did, and Ariel knew that her job meant she’d have to continue following. Walking by the ticket booth and flashing her badge to avoid questioning, Ariel stepped onto the portpad and set the location for Kaon…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p>
  <span>...And it lived up to her expectations upon arrival. In contrast to the clean whites, blues and golds of Iacon, Kaon was a grody purple, an unhomely grey, and pockmarked with starbursts of black that screamed “plasma fire was exchanged here.” Even the welcome sign placed in front of the station was unpleasant to look at, dented, and beneath the scratched print of “Welcome to Kaon” there was a graffiti-scrawled message, “Abandon all hope, loser.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ariel spent a few minutes contemplating this message before catching sight of Orion and Dion zooming down a nearby road.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Worrying about what she’d get here would have to wait. The mission came first, she reminded herself as she changed to vehicle mode and followed…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Megatron looked in the mirror, at himself. He was still wearing the body of the miner from Messatine. The face of a mech who had already become somewhat infamous for blowing up a mine.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Some part of him, deep down, was telling him that he didn’t have a chance. That he should just run.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But he knew that even if he did run, his people would still be oppressed by the Senate and the Functionist Council. Someone had to draw the line, and why shouldn’t it be him? ...Then again, why should it?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Megatron?” His thoughts were interrupted by Kiloton entering.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ah, Kiloton,” Megatron smiled, putting on a brave face, “I was just taking some time to get myself prepped.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sounds like something you could do,” Kiloton noted.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Weird response but okay.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Apologies. Over at my old home of Staniz, we tend to be a bit more straightforward then here at Kaon or Iacon,” Kiloton noted, “But enough about that, I came here because someone wanted to come by and see you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Megatron’s head perked up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Did, uh, did you check to see if he was friendly?” Megatron asked, “Last bot to come looking for me was a Senate bounty hunter, so, uh, just being cautious.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Now, now,” the voice of an older mech spoke up as Kiloton stepped aside, “Is that anyway to treat an old friend?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The body design was the same as Gladiator Lowload’s, albeit missing the drill, and the helmet had four small spotlights welded to it. In between the bottom two was a face that had seen its fair share of dirt and debris, twisted into a charming smile.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You son of a bitch,” Megatron snarled, “Everyone thought you were dead.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Perhaps I still am, and you’re talking to empty air,” the mech replied, “Truly, your life has driven you around the bend…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Megatron walked up to the mech, who stood a head above him… and hugged the big lug like you would an old friend, complete with a hug back.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Then again, it’s kinda hard to argue against crazy, it sometimes works!” The old mech chuckled.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Good to see you too, Terminus.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So, what’ve you been up to since I left the mines,” Terminus asked, “Gladiatorial arena working out?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, wrote a political analysis paper, company decided to threaten me, they accidentally set off an energon vein,” Megatron replied, “Not really that sure how I survived, but, well, some guys came by Messatine to pick me up, so here I am.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lies and omissions by Megatron, but sometimes deception is the best means of preservation.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, let’s hope this revolution you’ve been talking about really gets off the ground, eh?” Terminus smirked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It had been a month since he started coming to these fights at Dion's request, and now Orion had managed to make a pretty good balance between his job as an archivist and his… well, he would hesitate to call it a career, so more of a hobby really, But either way, his time in this Kaonian Arena had led to him being known and respected by many competitors.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The brutish Primatoid currently fighting in the Arena was not one of them. In fact, as far as Orion could tell, the beastly mech himself was a newcomer who was only recently showing up on the circuit, but the sheer strength of the mech plus this strange fire that always seems to spontaneously combust whenever he struck a good jab meant that this "Groundpounder" was probably the most dangerous opponent any gladiator could come across, as the tanky fighter Brawl could attest to.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"This is not good," Dion murmured, "One fighter couldn't possibly be this strong without some sort of unfair advantage."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Dion, this is a technically-illegal competition of strength and durability," Orion pointed out, "Fairness isn't exactly a necessary component. I will say that it is kinda a weird thing when his fist spontaneously combusts with that 'Fiery Fist of Furnax' thing he has going on."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"WEIRD?! That guy's an outlier, I know it!"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Orion had heard of Outliers, people with abilities that had not been built into their frames but still displayed nonetheless.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Is that bad?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Yeah, it is. An Outlier, by their very nature, tends to disrupt a delicate balance that is maintained even here," Dion noted, "Even in this fight, people have to win by their own merits, and Outliers could potentially spit in the face of this."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Is that right?" A new voice spoke up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The two turned to see Megatron approaching, followed by a larger mech wearing the same bodytype of a gladiator Dion had seen earlier, Lowload he thought, but certainly was older.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Gentlemen, my name is Terminus Concedo, Tarnian Miner-bot and spokesperson to a rather interested party for these arena fights," the larger spoke first.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Welcome, Terminus," Orion spoke first, "I am-"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Orion Pax, I'm aware," Terminus spoke up, "I've been to your archives quite a few times in my life, and I even contributed many articles of interest."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Oh? Such as?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"The Guides of Energon Mining, the Politics of Energon Extraction, a few papers on the dangers of Nucleon Refining, and such," Terminus replied, "But the most intriguing one I've recently contributed is the political analysis paper, 'Towards Peace.'"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wait… that was you?” Orion asked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It was me who wrote it, actually,” Megatron replied, “Was it to your satisfaction?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, the political analysis was certainly interesting, and really insightful,” Orion replied, “I couldn’t help but notice it was a little dismissive about the Combatron War’s effects on society, nor the influence of certain political parties.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, to be fair, I wasn’t in a position where such information was readily available when I wrote it,” Megatron noted.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Right,” Orion nodded, “Sooooooo… is your friend here going to act as your manager, or something?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"No, but I was hoping one of you could," Terminus stated.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Uh… well…" Orion wasn't sure how to approach this. For a while, he had been serving as Dion's assistant (emotional support, probably) but being a manager was… something he had not contemplated about at the time.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Ok, is this for a one-fight sort of thing?" Dion asked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Depends on his choice," Terminus replied.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Alright, Orion. Take this guy out for a spin, and we'll see what happens!" Dion smiled enthusiastically.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Orion was surprised at how Dion put him on the spot, but, ultimately, accepted this choice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As the medibots carried the damaged body of Brawl out of the arena, Orion decided to try his hand at the inspiring speech thing Dion did.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Alright, so, uh, as a manager, I'm expected to say a few words of advice," Orion started, "This guy is going to be a tough start for your fighting career. If you lose to him, you might receive damage that might haunt you for years and make you regret this night, but if you win, you, uh, might go on to inspire great things… I'm sorry, this whole speech thing isn't working out. So, disregard what I just said. From now on, these speeches are gonna be a short statement… so, uh, good luck?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“After everything that’s happened to me since I was forged, Orion,” Megatron noted, “I can’t say I believe in luck.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Megatron stretched and walked to the arena, leaving Orion confused…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“DOES ANYONE WANT TO GO UP AGAINST THE UNHOLY MIGHT OF GROUNDPOUNDER!” The announcer, a particularly annoying mech by the name of Hazard, shouted to the crowd as Megatron approached.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sir, we already have a fight scheduled after Brawl,” Megatron addressed him, “It’s MY turn to take the stage.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sure… what was your name again?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Megatron.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wait… as in Megatronus?” Hazard asked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Er, no, as in…” Megatron briefly thought about it. In truth he took the name from an obscure passage in the Covenant of Primus, speaking of a figure of vengeance, but even then he wasn’t quite sure if it referred to a different figure or the Firstforged Prime, “...y’know what, do what you want.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“LADIONS AND GENTLEBOTS!” Hazard addressed the crowd, drawing groans from it as a result, “You are NOT going to believe the mech we have for you today! A young mech from the city of Tarn,” raising Megatron’s eyeridge, “he was gifted with power from the patron god of this very city!” Okay, Megatron internally decided, this guy has done no research into his movement whatsoever, “I hope you’re ready for a little insanity in the ring tonight, because it’s time to meet an agent of chaos!” change, you buffoon, “The maelstrom of malady, the masher of morons… THE MIIIIIIIIIGHTY MEGATRON!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A loud booing in the stands by some of the civilians made it clear to Megatron that trying to correct Hazard would be an uphill battle, so he decided to take a higher road. He turned to Groundpounder.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So, Megatron, you ever fight in the ring before?” Grounpounder questioned.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“A few times on Messatine, testing the waters and such,” Megatron answered.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, I hope your message didn’t rely on winning here,” Groundpounder noted, “Because I don’t intend to throw the fight for you, even if I believe in it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wouldn’t even dream of it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As the refereebot recounted the rules of the engagement - no heinous injury, no outright murder, etc. - Megatron braced himself.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Groundpounder of Furnax vs Megatron of Messatine,” the refereebot announced, “Battlecode 0000. Kaon Battle Arena. Ready…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“GO!” Both shouted as they charged at each other.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Groundpounder and Megatron’s fists were the first point to contact the other, countering the other’s strike. From there, Groundpounder was the most active attacker, swinging left and right, forward momentum building with each jab. Megatron, by contrast, was the evasive, moving his feet and body to put him out of range.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eventually, Megatron saw an opening and jabbed Groundpounder in the face hard. Groundpounder felt the impact lightly dislocate his jaw, but it was not enough to actually hurt all that much. Using his free hand to reset his jaw, Groundpounder growled. “Not bad you…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His words trailed when he saw Megatron’s biolights begin to glow…</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Give it a moment,” Megatron felt the energy of his talent course throughout his body, focusing it into a single point - a chip he had placed in his arm, of the “ChicChip” model that was sold to folks trying to be fashionable, “Ah, there we go!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wait… you’re an outlier?” Groundpounder asked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wasn’t always,” Megatron confessed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Showing off won’t do me no good then,” Groundpounder pounded his shovel arm into his other hand, igniting the shovel part, “TIME TO BRING THE HEAT!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh snap folks! He’s going for the ‘Fiery Fist of Furnax,’ this early in the fight too! This opponent must’ve been quite the struggle to force this out!” Hazard announced, “Either way it’s going to suuuuuuuck!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Alright, you’re all fired up, huh?” Megatron smirked, calling upon a hydrokinetic talent he picked up earlier and feeling his colors change from their usual black and red to a blue-green scheme, “Time to fix that.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As Groundpounder winded a punch, Megatron sprayed forth, his hands erupting with a geyser of blue liquid. Although it hit dead on, Groundpounder chose to leap up and reignite his shovel arm, a fierce snarl upon his face.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dodging as Groundpounder swung down with his ignited shovel, Megatron quickly switched over to a geokinetic talent, his colors shifting to earthly browns and blacks.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Groundpounder jumped at him, only for Megatron to raise a wall of hardened silicon to block him. Shaking his head to reorient himself, Groundpounder felt his visor snap in half, one half smacking against the ground. How could this happen to him? Sure, the guys who hired him to keep an eye on this movement did warn him not to engage Megatron directly, but he never knew he’d be in this position and… did Megatron just leap above the barrier? Is he holding a giant lump of silicon? Did his colors just shift to red and gold? Did the lump of silicon just catch fire?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oh slag, was Groundpounder’s last conscious thought when Megatron lobbed the fiery rock at him and it exploded, taking him out of the ring and knocking him out of consciousness.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The cheer of the crowds was deafening.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Congratulations, Megatron!” Hazard announced, “You just took down an Outlier with great strength! How does that make you feel?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Can I borrow this for a minute?” Megatron took the mic, “Thank you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He turned to the crowd and began.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hello, and thank you for watching me trounce a monkey,” Megatron began, immediately regretting the comparison, before clearing his throat and continuing, “Now, before I can withstand your onslaught of shame for obvious shapism, I feel I must ask you. How many of you are here to get away from your boring, prospectless life?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This got the crowd murmuring, and the whispers and mumbles fused into a palpable chorus. Ariel watched as one bot raised his servo up, then another, then another. Soon, a good 60% of the arena’s guests had raised their hands.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, I see we have several,” Megatron smirked, “Well, this goes out to those who admit it… or those who think they should but aren’t sure.... Work blows, man.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ariel rolled her eyes. This was the big subversive figure who everyone was hearing rumors about? Some lazy miner who didn’t want to work? Primus, how… basic.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We’re all thinking it, in one way or another,” Megatron noted, “But you have to do it because, hey, it gives you the means to GET some things. Food. Armor. A place to rest for the night. Maybe several nights. A telescreen, maybe. Perhaps, if you’re lucky enough… an education for your kid. OR yourself.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That’s how the system works, essentially, Ariel thought.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It kinda sucks that we have to pay money for that stuff, because, honestly, some people just kinda lack the means to get money, the skills to get the job to get said money, or even the ability to get that stuff,” Megatron continued his lecture, “And then they turn to crime, which can… backfire spectacularly, or can benefit you immensely if you play the cards right.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ariel’s optics focused on the several known crimelords listening in, intrigued or angry or some weird hybrid of the two.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And when her optics zoomed back to the arena… Orion stood beside Megatron with an expression of “I don’t think I should be here right now” on his face.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“My manager is a data clerk from Iacon, and his assistant is a mere dockworker, but both come here for financial burdens they can't lift off their shoulders through entirely legal means," Megatron paused briefly, "Which may mean that even the higher echelons of society are being oppressed by the policies of the Prime, all to suit a small percentage of individuals that run society.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His optics met Ariel’s… and she could feel the barely restrained rage.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And ain't that kind of a dick move?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The crowd erupted in cheers of agreement, which soon devolved into a simple chant… “MEGATRON! MEGATRON! MEGATRON!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>In the jubilation, Ariel zoomed out of the crowd, back outside.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Log 57… continue…” Ariel couldn’t think straight. So many questions swarmed her mind. She saw this controversial figure, this “Megatron” win over a crowd with a barely coherent speech and a beat-up primatoid. She could report on Megatron, but how would she explain it? ‘Oh, gee, turns out the target I’ve been assigned to guard and observe got roped in with this probably-dangerous future crime overlord, might as well arrest him before he does something stupid like blow the archives!’</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>In her head, that seemed like something rational. But a feeling in her gut told her otherwise…</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Log 57 continued. After some trailing, I lost the subject somewhere in Kaon. In my exploration of the area, I stumbled across an illicit fighting arena, and bore witness to a gladiator criticizing political systems. In conclusion, I shall return to Iacon and do one of two things tomorrow. If subject returns to the archive, I will resume normal duties. If subject does not… I will burn this excuse of a city to the ground until I find him. Log concluded.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And with that, Ariel headed back to the teleport station, unaware of a jet that had been hovering overhead…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Megatron thanked the people for their time and departed. Orion followed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Hey, uh, excuse me, sir!" Orion spoke up to get his attention.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Call me Megatron, Orion," Megatron replied back, "It's what everyone else is doing."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"It seems that some of the facts are being misrepresented."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Like what?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I didn't join the arena for the money," Orion pointed out, "I came merely to support my friend, and to chronicle the struggle of the masses."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Perhaps that might be a faulty interpretation, but sometimes, the small facts have to be twisted slightly to make a point," Megatron pointed out.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Nobody ever benefited from lying about the facts," Orion countered.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Oh is that right? Tell me, where is the Matrix?" Megatron posed a question.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"It has been… lost?" Orion replied.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Stolen," Megatron corrected, "By the very people who entrusted Sentinel with it."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"What?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"When the people up top tell you something that doesn't make sense, then try to explain it with legal jargon," Megatron added, "Make sure to keep this thought in mind - you are being deceived. Always fact-check."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And with that, Megatron left Orion in that hallway, having in the span of a minute lead Orion to question everything about the current political climate that he has previously assumed to be fact.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He did not sleep well that night.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ariel’s optics glanced at the chronometer. Back at the door. Back at the chronometer. Back at the door. Orion was a few astroseconds later than usual. Not enough to panic about…</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The door opened, and in rolled Orion in vehicle mode. Ariel sighed. No need to rampage through Kaon yet. Orion transformed, and Ariel could see the wear and tear on his face even from the distance she stood.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You alright, Orion?" Ariel asked as he approached, "You don't look well."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I just had a hard time sleeping last night is all," Orion replied.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Really? Why?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Oh, you know, work stress and all."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ariel knew better then that, but at the same time she felt like going into it would be a dangerous move. She made the resolve to hold off on asking specific questions for now.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Well, uh, why not take the day off? Always calms the mind down," Ariel suggested.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I have way too much of a work ethic to really do that," Orion replied, although it was more a lamentation than anything else.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Well, if you have anything you wanna vent about, I'm always available," Ariel smiled.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Oh sure, open about my darkest secrets to someone who has only been on the staff for a few months," Orion murmured.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Huh?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I don't think I'm comfortable enough to vent to you about anything at the moment," Orion reworded his statement, "Maybe someday."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Alright…" Ariel replied, confused but understanding, "Well, I'm gonna go patrolling the halls, holler if you need anything."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Alright," Orion replied, knowing full-well he needed nothing… except maybe some space and all. With that, he stepped away and began looking over the archives like normal.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ariel sighed again. How the hell was she going to do her job with this knowledge in her head? Maybe a stop by the Institute to wipe her memory of that night would be better than dealing with it, but at the same time she knew that some bots would question her about her report of that night. ...Did she ever submit it?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She was so caught up in trying to figure out how to handle this situation, she completely missed a maroon jet femme walking by.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Orion’s optics would normally be scanning the record files, overviewing their placement, making sure some idiot didn’t put them in the wrong way… but today it was less “scanning” and more “glazed over due to lack of sleep.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It took the physical stimuli of a finger tapping him on the shoulder to shake him out of it. Turning, he saw a jet-former femme, maroon in coloration, with a distinctive helmet with two side fins sticking out, two horns on top of that, and a glowing front browridge.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Uh…" Orion emitted to gather his nerves, "Can I help you?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"That remains to be seen."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Another moment of silence…</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Ok, um… MAY I help you?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You were at the gladiatorial arena yesterday, backing that Megatron fellow."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This sent Orion into full alarm mode.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"What?! No! I wasn't near any arena! I don't know if there was an arena in this city!" Orion replied, trying to keep his voice down.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Your secret is safe with me," the jetbot replied, "I merely came to you with a warning."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Uh… ok?" was all Orion could stutter out.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The jetbot looked left, and then right, before leaning in.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Don't trust that bot," she spoke in a way that struck Orion as a seizing command, "People like him say there is evil in the world, but they simplify the story and construct a threat that does not meaningfully exist. And they do that all for their own ends."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The jetbot soon stepped away from Orion and walked away, leaving Orion unsure of who to trust on this… and with the feeling that something even worse was on the horizon.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. CHAPTER08</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <h1>
  <span>CHAPTER 08</span>
</h1><p>Orion didn't have much luck sleeping the night before, and it showed. His optics were slightly dimmer, his movements slower than usual, and sometimes his reactions were nonexistent.</p><p> </p><p>Ariel knew the signs of recharge deprivation, and furthermore, she knew WHY it was such. But it was an awkward topic. How to address it? 'Hey buddy, did you see the gladiatorial fight at Kaon last night? You looked so out of place there, dude!' Yeah, that'll go well.</p><p> </p><p>Ariel decided to start by addressing the most obviously present moment.</p><p> </p><p>"You look like you didn't sleep at all last night," Ariel pointed out.</p><p> </p><p>"I didn't. Curse of being an archivist - sometimes information keeps you from recharge," Orion gave his excuse, "I've added a cubelet of hydrocarbons to my cube this morning, but it didn't help."</p><p> </p><p>"So, what kind of information in particular?" Ariel asked, knowing the real answer but wanting to hear how Orion'd word it.</p><p> </p><p>"Why revolutions happen, and how many people got in deep before they realized just what they signed up for," Orion noted, "I mean, how many people were dragged into violent conflicts with no idea about the stakes until it was too late. It's a harsh thought - someone innocent can be caught up in something so... dangerous and ethically concerning and then..."</p><p> </p><p>Ariel nodded.</p><p> </p><p>"I can imagine that'd be concerning."</p><p> </p><p>"Yeah. I mean... suppose you were one of those guys - your friend's acquaintance was giving out some crazy ideas about how unfair the world was and you were like, alright. World could be better. That much we agree on. And then, during one of his secret group meetings he invited you to, he names you as a supporter, and then you're like 'what the hell, I never said I was into this,' but nobody listened to you."</p><p> </p><p>"Oh, that'd be awful."</p><p> </p><p>"And now said associate is gathering allies to his crazy cause, which is starting to feel like... I don't know, let's say a cult of personality, and you're trying to distance yourself from it but... Okay, this example's getting a little complicated, but you understand the base concept, right?"</p><p> </p><p>Ariel thought for a moment. Could Orion be trying to explain himself and avoid punishment?</p><p> </p><p>"I... I think so."</p><p> </p><p>"...Good. That's good."</p><p> </p><p>"So, what would you do in that situation?"</p><p> </p><p>"Stay as far away from that associate as I could," Orion stated.</p><p> </p><p>That settled it. Ariel now knew that he and Megatron were not allies.</p><p> </p><p>"Sounds as good as you can get."</p><p> </p><p>"Yeah..."</p><p> </p><p>"Now find some secret chamber and lie down. Put a heavy book near your head so it looks like you were knocked out by a book falling," Ariel advised.</p><p> </p><p>"Would that even work?"</p><p> </p><p>"It worked for one slacker I found around here. Had to explain to the medics called the actual truth of the matter and they sympathized," Ariel stated.</p><p> </p><p>"...What slacker?"</p><p> </p><p>"I'm not at liberty to say~."</p><p> </p><p>Orion narrowed his optics... then they shut and his head clunked on the table.</p><p> </p><p>"Uh..." Ariel looked around, grabbed a heavy-looking record, and then put it next to his head.</p><p>Whatever admonishments the administration could come up with for this kind of deception will have to be taken up with her.</p><p>---</p><p>Sentinel had grown worried since the day his Matrix was lost.</p><p> </p><p>Some might say paranoid, insecure in his position.</p><p> </p><p>True, he always strived to maintain a delicate balance in the political climate, but with so many parties maneuvering to overcome each other, it was growing dangerously hard to keep everything stable. Some of the worst parties to deal with were the megacorporations, who always tried too hard to one-up the competition and achieve a place of dominance so that they can have more money (seriously, you'd think they had plenty enough!)</p><p> </p><p>The one party that Sentinel had a worst time with was the Functionist Council. That shadowy cabal that always seemed so focused on their "perfect shape," as if that was a possibility.</p><p> </p><p>Still, Sentinel has to maintain balance, even in the face of their ever-darker ambitions.</p><p> </p><p>This was the resolution that focused his mind when their representative came into the room, dressed in that strange cloth-thing (a robe, he remembered them calling it) and that strange mask with a single glowing light (was it a mask or a face with one optic?)</p><p> </p><p>"Welcome," Sentinel addressed the robed figure, "How may I address you?"</p><p> </p><p>"I am Functionist Council Unit Twelve of Twelve," the figure replied, "I have been sent by the council to-"</p><p> </p><p>"-address growing concerns," Sentinel completed the sentence, briefly monitoring the figure's response as it tensed a bit. Fear? Rage? Some combination of the two?</p><p> </p><p>"...Precisely. Although please, let us not interrupt each other again," Twelve answered.</p><p> </p><p>"Apologies," Sentinel nodded, "I'm admittedly a bit short on time for today, so I'd like to make this meeting brief."</p><p> </p><p>"Very well."</p><p> </p><p>"As you know, recent events such as the underground transmissions that have been making their rounds have gotten several people concerned, including several members of the Senate," Sentinel noted, "I called you here so I can get a good idea of your concerns."</p><p> </p><p>"Our concerns are that you're not doing enough to quell this uprising," Twelve answered Sentinel's question.</p><p> </p><p>"What can we do? The transmissions came from Kaon, and even with all the resources we sent there to contain its rampant corruption, the gang wars continue ad infinitum," Sentinel replied, "It's the perfect place for Megatron's movement to hide in."</p><p> </p><p>"What you can do is write off the city and perform an orbital cleansing," Twelve offered a suggestion.</p><p> </p><p>"That is not a viable solution, and you know it," Sentinel replied, "My role as Conv-...as Prime, is to maintain the peace and prosperity of our people, and if I allowed an entire city's populus to pay for the actions of one radical, it would be a price too high for Cybertron to bear, either morally or financially."</p><p> </p><p>"And do you think Megatron has such limitations?" Twelve asked the question as monotone as can be, but Sentinel still felt the sinister edge of it.</p><p> </p><p>"Megatron lacks the resources to enact lasting change," Sentinel replied, "Even if he were to get the gang wars under his thumb, it'd hardly be enough to face our peacekeepers."</p><p> </p><p>"In fair and honorable combat, your assessment will hold true," Twelve noted, "But we're dealing with a group that has allowed D-16's survival of the mines and involvement in Boreus's death to remain below the radar and prides itself in using the tools of the enemy - 'deception' - against said enemy, being most likely us."</p><p> </p><p>"Megatron's group will be dealt with in a controlled manner. This is my promise," Sentinel replied.</p><p> </p><p>"We are concerned that such a manner would prove ineffective for dealing with these 'Decepticons,'" Twelve noted.</p><p> </p><p>"Decepticons?" Sentinel asked.</p><p> </p><p>"It is a name we developed for the movement, based on their official designation, the 'Anti-Deception Conversation,'" Twelve noted.</p><p> </p><p>"Wouldn't that make them the 'Anti-DeceptiCons?'"</p><p> </p><p>"We find that removing the word Anti offers more credence," Twelve noted.</p><p> </p><p>Sentinel thought about it briefly, and decided that calling someone an 'Anti' would be quite silly, like someone declaring an antifacist ideology a political enemy and thus outing themselves as facist. Truly backwards logic. But that was neither here nor there.</p><p> </p><p>"I give you my word, these Decepticons will be dealt with in time," Sentinel replied, "But they will be dealt with humanely."</p><p> </p><p>"So says he who lost the Matrix," Twelve castigated, before turning around and strolling out of the room.</p><p>---</p><p>Twelve of Twelve returned to the private spire that the Functionist Council used as their base of operation, and his internal balcony placed around the grand table around which all the Functionists made their philosophical discussions.</p><p> </p><p>"So, what has transpired, Castigator?" He heard one of his fellows ask.</p><p> </p><p>"Sentinel has made his limitations clear - he will deal with the Decepticons, but he will not purge the city for it," He explained.</p><p> </p><p>"As we have foreseen," Another functionist, the Moderator, noted, "So, what is the next step?"</p><p> </p><p>"Megatron, D-16, still lives, clearly. The agent the Senate had sent against him has either failed in his duties or has been seduced ideologically by Megatron. Further action by the Senate would likely be more overt, but result in further escalation," the Evaluator evaluated.</p><p> </p><p>"Which means it could fall to us to deal with this growing movement," The Enumerator noted, "Many of the peacekeepers in Kaon are Functionaries under our banner, although their main concern is the Rise."</p><p> </p><p>"In order to stem the Decepticon tide, we must step up our actions," the Eneactor pointed out, "I have already prepped another shipment of Functionaries to Kaon, and with them new orders to deal with the Decepticon threat. All I require is your approval."</p><p> </p><p>"And you have it," the Evaluator replied.</p><p> </p><p>"As you have mine," the Enumerator added.</p><p> </p><p>"Make it so," The Authenticator authenticated.</p><p> </p><p>One by one more of the table replied in agreement, and the motion was made clear.</p><p> </p><p>Even if they couldn't purge Megatron's forces, they could make it certainly rougher for them.</p><p>---</p><p>Megatron, for his part, was busy prepping his own side of the board... and by prepping, we of course mean trying to keep his standards as to who he could exploit. Bots like Sky Shadow and Stonecrusher were criminals with a history of war, thus it was easy to keep them in line with promises. Bots like the dumpy tank-bot standing before him - Straxus was the name he was given, although Megatron wasn't entirely sure if it was his real name - didn't seem like the kind of bot who could be kept in line with any amount of ease.</p><p> </p><p>"...And furthermore, the humiliation of my people by the so-called civilians has only brought on further social calamity," Straxus continued his disjointed rant, "As I'm sure you were aware, the reliance on such arbitrary units of measurement for worth like 'shanix' has only caused greater disparity for-"</p><p> </p><p>"Straxus, sir," Megatron stood up, making sure to loom over the bot before him, "I recognize that you see a kindred between us, but I do not see that same kindred. I intend to lead a revolution to make Cybertron a better place for everyone, but doing so means I have to exercise greater self-control then you could possibly conjure up."</p><p> </p><p>"And what does that have to do with anything?"</p><p> </p><p>"It means that the Anti-Deception Conversation cannot grant you any form of assistance," Megatron clarified, "We will not be involved in your campaigns, and you will not be involved in our operations."</p><p> </p><p>"...You say that now, but time will prove otherwise," Straxus replied almost in confidence, "You'll need a lot of armaments, and people willing to use them. And I happen to have both in excess."</p><p> </p><p>"I suggest you leave now, Straxus. Don't call us, we'll call you," Megatron hissed.</p><p> </p><p>"Very well, but don't expect us to stay out of it when you get into trouble," Straxus turned to leave, "Be seeing you."</p><p> </p><p>And with that, Straxus exited the building.</p><p> </p><p>"Ugh..." Megatron slammed his head on the desk he was using, "Sometimes I wonder if I'm always destined to find the wrong people. Anyone else?"</p><p> </p><p>"Not at the moment, sir," the random 'seeker' replied.</p><p>---</p><p>As nightfall began, Ariel continued on the path to her designated habsuite. Her mind still clouded with multiple probabilities.</p><p> </p><p>"So Orion didn't know, that much was obvious, but how deep in it is he? Would High Command accept such reports? Would Sentinel? Would anyone? So many questions sparked up by this strange event," Ariel noted, "Am I trying to pretend there's something I can do, or-"</p><p>"Is there really something you can do?"</p><p> </p><p>Ariel quickly swung around, spear and shield unfolding from their subspace pockets, to face the new voice.</p><p> </p><p>Its owner was a maroon jetbot, femme by the looks of it, with a very charming look on her face.</p><p> </p><p>"Whoa, relax," the jetbot held her hands up in a defensive action, "I come in peace."</p><p> </p><p>"Who are you?" Ariel asked.</p><p> </p><p>"I'm a bot who believes in the ideals of law and order much like you, but at the same time I know the world isn't perfect," the jetbot replied, "Sometimes, people make mistakes."</p><p> </p><p>"That's not the answer I was looking for," Ariel replied back.</p><p> </p><p>"True, but it's the best I got," the jet noted, "The second-best I got is an offer."</p><p> </p><p>"What kind of offer? Drugs? Money? Political favors?" Ariel asked, not intending to get anything.</p><p> </p><p>"Information. On the Decepticons' leader," The jetbot replied, "and a chance to bring about a truly lasting peace and order, free from so many corruptinging interests."</p><p> </p><p>Ariel's optics narrowed, but the jetbot seemed harmless.</p><p> </p><p>"Well, if I'm gonna take that information, I'm gonna need someone to credit when all this is over."</p><p> </p><p>"Ah, a name," The jetbot finally sighed, "My name is Elita."</p><p> </p><p>"Nice to meet you," Ariel returned the introduction.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. CHAPTER09</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>CHAPTER 09</p><p>Written by Devaron09</p><p><br/>
It was a peaceful day in Iacon. For Orion, the first in a long time. He had finally taken the day off, and was planning to spend the day catching up on his novels. Sitting down on the sofa in their apartment’s living space, he activated the datapad and began reading. This particular novel had been something recommended by Alpha Trion during his time at the Camien markets - “The Light Keeper’s Circle”. Action, drama, romance, it had it all, according to Alpha Trion, and as long as it was something he could unwind with, he was good. As he put his feet on the table, he took a sip of his non-alcoholic engex, and sunk into the story of the book.</p><p><br/>
“Hey, what about the Maximum Overdrive, on Prion?” came the voice of Dion, immediately breaking Orion’s immersion. “I hear they serve an Engex blend that they light on fire.”</p><p><br/>
Orion sighed. While he was trying to read, Dion was attempting to organize some sort of cross-colony trip to visit the best bars in the colony. It definitely wasn’t his sort of thing, but Dion had insisted Orion come with him and his dock friends. Orion put his datapad down, and put his feet on the ground.</p><p><br/>
“Dion, I’m definitely not what you’d call a connoisseur, but I honestly don’t think that going somewhere they serve fire hazards as a drink is really the smartest idea” Orion sighed.</p><p><br/>
“Ah come on, Orion, I’m just trying to make it fun” replied Dion. “We both save our days for a full month’s holiday! I wanna make sure it’s something special. Besides, I hear more and more Pyro’s are appearing now. Pretty soon the drink won’t be the bigger fire hazard in the room.”</p><p><br/>
“Dion, when you suggested it, I figured we would be seeing the sites. The twin peaks of Devisun, the Arkix Ruins on Eukaris, Firstforged Monument on Mons Prima. History.”</p><p><br/>
“We’ll have time for that. But the way I heard, these bars and pubs are some of the best out there. The real Golden Sites of the Commonwealth.”</p><p><br/>
“An ignited drink won’t put this…”Maximum Overdrive” into the 100 Golden Sites any day soon.”</p><p><br/>
“Orion, relax” said Dion. “At the end of this day, this trip’ll be to get away from things. Think about it. I don’t have to worry about loading and unloading crates, while my supervisor is STILL awol, you don’t have to worry about overworking yourself at the archive, or embarrassing yourself in front of your girlfriend-”</p><p><br/>
“Heeeeey…”</p><p><br/>
“Heh, sorry, couldn’t help myself. But besides, it also means we don’t have to worry about our, uh, other obligations.”</p><p><br/>
Their conversation was interrupted by the creaking of their door. Orion and Dion turned their heads to see Megatron, wearing a hooded cloak, opening it.</p><p><br/>
“Apologies, your door was open” Megatron said, removing his hood.</p><p><br/>
“Ah, someone broke the lock a few weeks back, we’re still waiting on someone to be sent round” Dion said. “So, what’s with the new look?”</p><p><br/>
“I just find sometimes it pays for me to… remain covert” Megatron replied. “Particularly when in Iacon.”</p><p><br/>
“Well, I hate to break it to you, but the lack of cloaks in Iacon might make you more conspicuous” Dion replied. “So, what brings you to our door?”</p><p><br/>
“Well, it had been a while since we talked, longer considering last time was cut short, so I was wondering if you would be interested in joining me in going to a Sim Centre for a bit of sparring. I’ve already hired out a place, and I think it would be a good place to catch up while also being productive.”</p><p><br/>
“Ah, sorry Megs, I’m kinda snowed in planning for a big trip me and Orion are gonna have” Dion replied. “Lots of stuff to plan, and then you gotta book stuff waaaaaaaaaay in advance. But Orion’s free. He’s got the day off.”</p><p><br/>
Orion awkwardly sat in place, not sure of how to respond. He’d never been a fighter, and he certainly didn’t want to get repeatedly punched by this miner.</p><p><br/>
“I’m, uh, not really a fighter, so, uh…” Orion stuttered.</p><p><br/>
“All the more reason to get you trained up” retorted Megatron. “It’s a dangerous world out there, and if things don’t change, it’s gonna get a whole lot worse. Come on, I’ll show go easy on you. Maybe we can figure out a preferred style.”</p><p><br/>
“Go on, Orion” encouraged Dion. “You don’t go out that much, this is the perfect chance to try something new.”</p><p><br/>
“Okay” relented Orion. “But I won’t be good.”</p><p><br/>
And with that, Megatron pulled Orion out the door as Dion was left to his work.</p><p>---</p><p>Orion and Megatron walked through the backstreets of Iacon. Orion had never been to these parts of Iacon… if anything, he had no idea they even existed. As they walked, Orion looked nervously at his feet.</p><p><br/>
“Something wrong, Orion?” Megatron asked.</p><p><br/>
“It’s…” began Orion. “It’s nothing.”</p><p><br/>
“Orion, we’re friends,” said Megatron. “You can say what’s troubling you.”</p><p><br/>
“Well… it’s some of the people you’ve allied with,” said Orion.</p><p><br/>
“Yes, I know Lugnut and Blackwall can be a bit strange, but they mean well. Well, aside from their little rivalry.”</p><p><br/>
“It’s not them… it’s some of the groups you’ve aligned yourself with. I mean, the senate have already started referring to the Anti-Deception Conversation as the “Decepticons,” and have labeled you a crime syndicate. The term is definitely being spread about. I don’t know if it’s the image you want.”</p><p><br/>
“So that’s where the name came from,” Megatron sighed, “Believe me, I’m not exactly thrilled with working with them, but with them, people finally feel comfortable enough to come out and join us. Just last week, the workforce of Hezik III - you know, the ones that got laid off when they automated the mines - they’ve joined us in force. And I hear rumors it might be the same for those who worked on Hezik I and IV. We’re reaching people Orion.”</p><p><br/>
“I know, it’s just… what if criminal elements corrupt this. Turn this into something else entirely.”</p><p><br/>
“Orion, I would never let that happen” Megatron said. “I’ve experienced what it’s like being one of the so-called disposable classes, and I have no intention of-”</p><p><br/>
Megatron quickly paused, stopping walking. Orion stopped too, not sure what was going on. Megatron quickly grabbed Orion and pulled him into an alleyway, firmly keeping his hand on Orion’s shoulder.</p><p><br/>
“Hey, Megatron, what are you doing?” Orion questioned, concerned as Megatron looked out of the alley.</p><p><br/>
“Ssssh” hissed Megatron in response.</p><p><br/>
Orion caught sight of a pair of Autotroopers passing by, white plated and with teal stripes marking their body. Once they were out of sight, Megatron breathed a sigh of relief and relaxed his grip of Orion.</p><p>“Megatron, was that really necessary?”</p><p><br/>
“I suggest you not refer to me as- as the M-Word in public like this” Megatron said, peeking out of the alley to watch the Autotrooper get further away.</p><p><br/>
“Well, you said I can’t call you D-... well you said I can’t use your designation” Orion replied, exasperated. “What am I supposed to refer to you as?”</p><p><br/>
Megatron scratched his chin, thinking. He turned to Orion once he had his answer.</p><p><br/>
“For now, you can refer to me as ‘X’” Megatron stated. “Vague, easy enough to remember, etcetera.”</p><p><br/>
“Right. ‘X’. Definitely going to help the image problem” Orion said, rolling his eyes.</p><p><br/>
“Look, we’ll workshop it later,” Megatron replied. “We still have a time slot for that Sim Centre to make it for, so I suggest we get moving.”</p><p><br/>
“Sure thing, ‘X’” Orion stated, adjusting his glasses and following Megatron out of the alley.</p><p><br/>
As they returned to the street, Orion pondered how fast things were changing with the Movement… the Decepticons, now. Could this still be the same group Dion had introduced him to barely that long ago?</p><p>---</p><p>Ariel slowly stepped towards Orion’s terminal. She looked around, making sure no-one was in the area. Orion might not be around, but Alpha had a habit of showing up out of nowhere. Satisfied she was alone, she sat down at the terminal.</p><p><br/>
“Sorry for using your account, Orion, but this is important,” Ariel said, quickly typing in the password.</p><p><br/>
Ariel never meant to take note of Orion’s password. She just had a habit of just remembering these things, and if Orion wasn’t going to hide his password, it wasn’t her fault. But now, it was a good thing. Due to his position, Orion had access to far more access to archives without having to worry too much about anything but level 5 permissions. Bringing up the search option, she entered her queries.</p><p><br/>
“Alright Elita, let’s see who you really are,” Ariel said to herself.</p><p><br/>
It didn’t take long for Ariel to find files pertaining to her mysterious friend… though that wasn’t to say it was that successful. Military services records and field reports dating back to the Beast Wars and the Ultracon Conflict, some even going as far back as the tailend of the Combatron War. And yet, nothing recent. Ariel kept digging, yet everything she found that could be a lead had been scrubbed of critical information.</p><p><br/>
“Urgh!” Ariel loudly said, annoyed. “She’s an enigma! I hate it!”</p><p><br/>
“Is everything alright?” came Alpha’s voice as he popped his head round a shelf. “You don’t seem to be at your post.”</p><p><br/>
“Sorry, Orion just asked me to clean his desk when I got the chance” Ariel lied, trying to cover herself.</p><p><br/>
“Really? Funny, he asked me the same thing.”</p><p><br/>
Ariel nervously tried to turn off the console. This was it. Alpha had rumbled her.</p><p><br/>
“Orion can never be too careful, can he?” Alpha chuckled. “Imagine that, asking the both of us to clean his workspace. Well, you do it this time and I’ll do it once my shift ends. Take care, Ariel.”</p><p><br/>
“Take care” Ariel replied, breathing a sigh of relief.</p><p><br/>
Once Alpha was gone, Ariel looked back at the computer. Numerous files were open, yet none of them had any information as to who this Elita really was beyond a soldier, nor her interest in Orion.</p><p><br/>
“Great…” Ariel muttered to herself. “Well, I should probably clear his history. I don’t want him to be driven more towards the Decepticon movement.”</p><p><br/>
With that, Ariel scrubbed the files, before doing a rushed job of tidying Orion’s desk to keep to her story, before grabbing her spear and heading towards the front entrance to take up her post.</p><p>---</p><p>Orion and Megatron stood inside the holosuite. The room was active, only producing white walls, floor and ceiling, making it almost barren. Orion found it to be a rather odd experience.</p><p><br/>
“I, uh… it’s pretty plain...” Orion stated, trying to start up a conversation.</p><p><br/>
“Need to set up the parameters,” Megatron replied. “But first, we need to find somewhere for you to start. System, generate holographic arsenal Alpha-through-Delta.”</p><p><br/>
Orion turned around as several tables appeared, each one holding a number of weapons. There was a wide variety of them, from energy pistols to photon repeaters to particle spreaders to even a fusion cannon. Orion backed up, a little daunted by the array.</p><p><br/>
“I, umm, guns?” asked Orion. “This seems a bit much. I thought we were just learning to defend ourselves?”</p><p><br/>
“We are” Megatron replied, walking past Orion. “It’s a dangerous world, sometimes people won’t give you a chance to get close.”</p><p><br/>
“But it’s a gun!” Orion retorted. “One shot and you're over!”</p><p><br/>
“Not if you set the setting low enough” Megatron said, rifling through the weapons. “Most weapons come with a stun mode anyway. Not that the people you’ll be protecting yourself will really care. Now here. Take this.”</p><p><br/>
Picking one of the weapons off the table, Megatron threw it straight at Orion. It bounced off the window on Orion’s chest and landed in his hands.</p><p><br/>
“Did you just throw a gun at me?” Orion questioned, startled.</p><p><br/>
“It’s holomatter, it won’t kill and it won’t misfire.” Megatron said, rolling his eyes. “A pulse pistol. Lightweight, easy enough to get to grips with. System, produce targeting simulation Alpha-Ten-One.”</p><p><br/>
Orion turned around as a trio of holograms appeared, depicting three different models of Vehicons. One slim and nimble, balancing on a single wheel, one bulky and heavy armored, standing on treader feet, and one hovering in midair with slender, winged arms.</p><p><br/>
“Disgusting,” Megatron said. “Generating MTO Vehicons as targets. Typical Senate Guards. If I had my way, I’d be generating Guard Convoy, but it might draw suspicion.”</p><p><br/>
“I’m not too sure about this,” Orion said, looking at holograms.</p><p><br/>
“Look, just point, keep your arm steady, and pull the trigger” Megatron replied. “It’s easy.”</p><p><br/>
“Don’t say it’s easy. That just sounds callous.”</p><p><br/>
“Look, I’m doing this for your own safety. No-one’s getting hurt here, and ideally you won’t have to use what you learn here.”</p><p><br/>
Orion raised the pistol at one one of the holograms, holding it with both arms. He could feel his arms shaking. Closing his eyes, Orion pulled the trigger and felt the pistol recoil backwards as it fired… straight into his head. The gun dinged off his head, before landing on the floor. Orion opened his eyes, and saw a red target on the wall behind the Vehicons, signifying where he had hit… or rather missed. Megatron approached Orion and picked up the pistol.</p><p><br/>
“Perhaps a little too lightweight” Megatron sighed. “Let’s see if we can find something better.”</p><p><br/>
Megatron put the pistol back on one of the tables, then began sifting through the weapons once more. Orion awkwardly watched him.</p><p><br/>
“Any idea how long we’re gonna be doing this for?” Orion asked.</p><p><br/>
“As long as it takes,” Megatron replied, before picking out a larger rifle. “How about we try an Ion Blaster?”</p><p><br/>
Orion reluctantly took the rifle, and tried to find a way to hold it comfortably in his hands. No matter what Megatron thought, they were going to be here for some time…</p><p>---</p><p>Elsewhere, in Kaon’s Warehouse District, things were busy. Newly christened Decepticons were working hard to convert the abandoned sector into a base of operations, all without alerting any of the authorities. On one end, Blackwall, Groundpounder, Brawl and Slugfest attempted to shift some large metal pipes that had been abandoned there for some time. On the other, Lugnut began berating some new insecticon recruits for trying to devour their energy supplies. Outside, Sky Shadow waited patiently as an old Animatronian shuttle landed in front of him. As the door opened, Cryotek emerged.</p><p><br/>
“You took your time” Sky Shadow said. “Any particular reason you’re late.”</p><p><br/>
“Any particular reason I need to justify to you?” Cryotek snapped back. “I thought not. Is Soundwave inside?”</p><p><br/>
“Yeah” Sky Shadow answered. “He and some of those engineers, Constructicons I think, are trying to install subwave transmitters they got from that cyclops.”</p><p><br/>
“Then let’s drag his attention onto more important business.”</p><p><br/>
Heading through the outer fence, Sky Shadow and Cryotek passed the various working Decepticons and entered the nearest warehouse. Inside, they found Soundwave, Scrapper and Hook working on a large machine.</p><p><br/>
“Soundwave, we need to talk” Cryotek loudly stated. “Alone.”</p><p><br/>
Soundwave sighed, before looking at Scrapper and Hook. With a single wave of his hand, Soundwave gestured the two to leave, leaving Soundwave alone with Sky Shadow and Cryotek.</p><p><br/>
“Query: Is this necessary?” Soundwave inquired. “Operations: increased time consumption. Time for complaints: None.”</p><p><br/>
“We need to talk about this red truck bloke Megatron calls his ‘manager’” Sky Shadow began. “We’re concerned.”</p><p><br/>
“Concerned and confused” added Cryotek. “The little runt barely gets involved in the work, and whenever he shows up he just looks awkwardly and barely leaves the side of Megatron or that orange pipsqueak.”</p><p><br/>
“Then negative concerns of you being defeated by him” Soundwave coldly mocked.</p><p><br/>
Sky Shadow stopped Cryotek from lunging at Soundwave for the comment, before turning his attention back to the Decepticon.</p><p><br/>
“Point is, we’re concerned that his loyalty could waver” Sky Shadow continued. “Perhaps lead to him betraying us to the Autobots.”</p><p><br/>
“Clarify term - Autobots,” Soundwave inquired.</p><p><br/>
“You know, those guys under Autonomous’s charge,” Cryotek replied, “They could be a problem in the future, especially with the way they rejected us.”</p><p><br/>
“Negative” Soundwave replied. “Megatron: absolute, therefore Megatron’s trust in Orion: Absolute. Conversation terminated.”</p><p><br/>
Sky Shadow sighed as Cryotek gave an annoyed scowl.</p><p><br/>
“Come on Cryotek” Sky Shadow said, turning around. “We’re not gonna achieve much talking to him. We might as well get on with things and wait till Megatron’s around.”</p><p><br/>
Cryotek began to turn around, before looking back at Soundwave. Pointing the dragon head on his arm, Cryotek fired a chilling bolt of energy at the subwave transmitter, freezing it instantly.</p><p><br/>
“You might need to thaw that out” Cryotek chuckled, before leaving with Sky Shadow.</p><p><br/>
Soundwave looked at Sky Shadow and Cryotek, then at the frozen machine behind him. Letting out a noise one could only assume was a sigh, Soundwave went outside, hoping to find someone, a Decepticon, whose talent might help expedite the thawing process.</p><p>---</p><p>Ariel stood at her post, watching people coming in and out of the archive. But today, her mind wasn’t on the job. Her thoughts were entirely occupied by Elita, and whatever her motives were. She barely noticed when one clumsy visitor dropped a file on her feet, and wasn’t phased when some youngsters tried to mess around with her. She simply kept thinking, pondering, tapping her foot as she thought.</p><p><br/>
“Quiet day today, isn’t it Ariel?” Alpha asked, suddenly standing next to her.</p><p><br/>
Ariel jumped at Alpha appearance, accidentally throwing her spear upwards. Attempting to catch it, she bounced it in her hands a few times, before firmly grasping it. Turning to Alpha, she quickly stood straight and saluted.</p><p><br/>
“Sorry, Alpha Trion!” Ariel stated, composing herself. “I wasn’t aware you were there.”</p><p><br/>
“Oh, there’s no need to apologise” Alpha replied. “And no need to salute, either. You know I don’t go into all that. For me, work is a congregation of friends, not a hierarchy of ranks.”</p><p><br/>
“I, uh, sorry” Ariel said, putting her hand down.</p><p><br/>
“There you go, second apology in a minute” Alpha chuckled. “Now, what seems to be up? You seem to be distracted by something. What’s on your mind?”</p><p><br/>
“Well…” Ariel started, deciding how to phrase it. “I’ve just been doing a little research. A project, you can say.”</p><p><br/>
“Oh, taking one of the virtual classes, eh?” Alpha said. “I tried one once. Study of great Cybertronian energon falls. Rather dull, compared to being there, if I’m honest.”</p><p><br/>
Not quite…” Ariel continued. “You don’t know anything about an “Elita-1” do you?”</p><p><br/>
“Ohohoh, so it’s a person you want to know about?” Alpha mused. “Well, I’ve met a great many people in my long, long life. Enough to fill an archive. Come to think of it, a lot of them were filled into this archive.”</p><p><br/>
“But do you know anything about her?”</p><p><br/>
“Whose to say?” Alpha said, tapping his head. “This mighty processor has a lot of information on it, on many, many people. I’ll have to have a good little fish about. Not literally, of course. But I’ll see what I can remember from nogging. Perhaps a nice little bit of steamed energon will do the trick.”</p><p><br/>
With that Alpha, headed back inside of the archive, leaving Arial a little confused.</p><p><br/>
“Uh… thanks?” she called to Alpha, bemused.</p><p><br/>
Still no answers, she thought. There must be some other way to get information.</p><p>---</p><p>Orion fired another shot, completely missing his target. Megatron sighed, before picking a weapon off the bench and strapping it to his arm. With several choice shots, Megatron was able to destroy the holoforms with ease.</p><p><br/>
“Is… is that a fusion cannon?” Orion asked, looked at the large cannon attached to Megatron’s arm. “Seems a little excessive for self-defense.”</p><p><br/>
“I’ve spent much of my life wielding heavy machinery, Orion” Megatron said, looking at the cannon on his arm. “Drills, extractors, even piledrives on rare occasions. I’ve become more used to a weightier weapon. A fusion cannon happens to be a weightier weapon.”</p><p><br/>
“I guess, but it isn’t it more of a weapon of war?”</p><p><br/>
“Only if that’s what you choose it to be.”</p><p><br/>
Megatron removed the fusion cannon from his arm and placed it on the table. He took the ion blaster off Orion, and put it alongside it.</p><p><br/>
“System” said Megatron. “Switch to holographic arsenal Epsilon through to Theta.”</p><p><br/>
Though the table seemed to remain the same, the weapons on them changed shape. Where guns once sat, now an assortment of close range weapons had appeared. There were swords, spears, lances, axe, maces and numerous others.</p><p><br/>
“Take your pick” Megatron said, gesturing to the table.</p><p><br/>
Orion looked over the table. He still thought this was a little excessive for an archivist, but he knew Megatron wouldn’t take no for an answer. Orion stood still, his gaze hovering over the plethora of weapons. Finally, he settled on an amber-glowing axe.</p><p><br/>
“Ah, an Energon Axe” Megatron said, looking over. “A rather old but reliable weapon.”</p><p><br/>
As Orion picked up the axe, something strange happened. His shunted back into his arm as the axe attached itself to him. Shocked, Orion lets his arm drop, almost hitting himself in the knee, if only for Megatron catching it.</p><p><br/>
“Be thankful it’s holomatter” Megatron said, bringing Orion’s back up. “It’d be one step forward, two steps back if you ended up slicing off your leg.”</p><p><br/>
“Well, I don’t think it’d be any steps anywhere if that was the case” Orion replied.</p><p><br/>
Megatron smirked at the joke. Letting go of Orion’s arm, he walked back over to the table and picked up a large mace. Connecting to his arm with a stream of energy, Megatron turned to face Orion, brandishing the mace.</p><p><br/>
“Overcome me” Megatron ordered.</p><p><br/>
“A mace… is that standard for people attacking us?” Orion asked.</p><p><br/>
“Not as such,” Megatron replied. “But you should be ready for any weapon. Now you heard me.”</p><p><br/>
Orion attempted to charge forward, but was quickly knocked down with a single swing of Megatron’s mace. Orion groaned as he lay on his back. Megatron stood over Orion and pulled him up.</p><p><br/>
“We’ll keep going until I’m satisfied we’re making progress” Megatron replied. “Now we’ll try again. Overcome me.”</p><p>---</p><p>The pair kept sparring for hours, Orion finding himself defeated over and over. Megatron said that Orion was improving, but it didn’t feel like it. As Megatron pulled Orion up for what felt like the millionth time, he felt like all he had achieved was warping his spinal struts out of shape.</p><p><br/>
“Well, it seems that we’ve run out of time” Megatron said, bringing up a chronometer. “We’ll have to carry this on another time.”</p><p><br/>
“Yes, another time…” Orion wheezed, tired from the training. “Do you really think it’ll come to violence?”</p><p><br/>
“What will come to violence?” Megatron asked as he removed the mace from his arm.</p><p><br/>
“This movement?” Orion said, removing his energon axe. “You said this was only for training, but you seem to be going straight for the heavier weaponry. I’m just concerned about what's to come.”</p><p><br/>
“Like I said, violence by us will only be beget by violence from the senate and the functionists” Megatron replied. “I will only resort to it if I feel it is our only option. Now, I suggest you get going before they kick us out. I’ll finish up here.”</p><p><br/>
“Are you sure?” Orion asked. “I’m alright helping-”</p><p><br/>
“No” Megatron replied abruptly. “It’s fine, I’ve got people to see, anyway. See you next time, Orion.”</p><p><br/>
“See you around, ‘X’” Orion replied.</p><p><br/>
With that, Orion left the room, leaving Megatron to wrap up the simulation. As he exited the building onto the street, Orion thought. He had hoped Megatron might quell his concerns as they talked, but now he felt like he wasn’t sure what side he was meant to be on. Looking up, he saw the amber sunset disappear behind the buildings. With a heavy, sigh Orion made his way back home.</p><p>---</p><p>Ariel walked the streets. It was quiet, typical when finishing a shift during the night. Perhaps too quiet. She looked, moving her arm towards her spear. There was nobody around, yet she didn’t feel alone.</p><p><br/>
“Hmm…” Ariel muttered to herself. “I don’t like it.”</p><p><br/>
Ariel progressed forward, keeping an optic out for anyone following her. For a moment, she thought she saw a shadow move. Ariel walked a few steps forward, before stopping and brandishing her spear.</p><p><br/>
“Knock it off!” she called out into the darkness. “I’m armed!”</p><p><br/>
“I’m aware” came a voice behind. “You rarely aren’t.”</p><p><br/>
Ariel whipped around and thrust her spear forward, ceasing just in front of her pursuer’s chest. Ariel looked up and found herself staring at Elita-1.</p><p><br/>
“I hear you’ve been looking into me” Elita said, pushing the spear away with the tip of her finger. “I’m afraid you won’t find much. The senate would rather pretend I never existed.”</p><p><br/>
“It makes it very hard to trust you” Ariel replied, clutching her spear.</p><p><br/>
“I’m afraid nothing you would learn could make you trust me any more. But it could not make you trust me any less, either.”</p><p><br/>
“Then why listen to you?”</p><p><br/>
“Because we are both concerned for the wellbeing of Orion Pax, though for different reasons. He has a great destiny. But Megatron follows a dark path, and threatens to have Orion follow him.”</p><p><br/>
“You think Orion’s in danger?”</p><p><br/>
“I know so. Megatron is capable of many things, both great and terrible. If he drags Orion down with him, we may all be in danger…”</p><p>---</p><p>Orion entered the apartment, noting the door still wasn’t fixed. He sighed and sat down at the table. Giving him a quick wave, Dion rushed by with the disposal unit, propping against the door to keep it shut. Dion then sat down at the table opposite him.</p><p><br/>
“Hey Orion, how was things with Megs?” Dion asked.</p><p><br/>
“Eh…” was all Orion could respond.</p><p><br/>
“Huh? What’s wrong?”</p><p><br/>
“I’m… concerned, is all.”</p><p><br/>
“Concerned about what, exactly?” Dion asked. “You think Megatron’s in danger?”</p><p><br/>
“No, Megatron’s always in danger” Orion sighed. “It’s the life he’s chosen to live.”</p><p><br/>
“Then what?”</p><p><br/>
“I’m concerned about where he’s going” Orion explained. “He keeps denying it, but I’m concerned this peaceful revolution might turn into a militant one. And if that’s the case, how much would things actually be changing?”</p><p><br/>
“Well, sometimes fighting is inevitable. The senate definitely seems to be spoiling for it.</p><p><br/>
Orion gave a deep sigh, glumly resting his head on his folded arms.</p><p><br/>
“It’s just not how I imagined changing Cybertron would be” he solemnly said.</p><p><br/>
Seeing his friend down, Dion stood up and grabbed a container off one of the counters, as well as a pair of glasses. Pouring into the glasses, he slid one over to Orion and put the container on the table.</p><p><br/>
“Don’t worry, it’s non-alcoholic” Dion said, taking a sip from his glass. “So go on. What would your ideal reform be?”</p><p><br/>
“Well… and it may sound stupid, but I alway imagined it being inspiring others rather than just a takeover. Showing them how we can change Cybertron for the better. No spilt Energon, no battle, just people coming together and changing.”</p><p><br/>
“What, like one of those ‘Superheroes’ you hear the kids readings about?”</p><p><br/>
“You see” sighed Orion. “Stupid.”</p><p><br/>
“Well, it’s an idealistic view, I’ll admit” Dion said. “But a noble one.”</p><p><br/>
“Noble’s your word of the day, isn’t it?”</p><p><br/>
“Dammit, you got me” Dion chuckled as he took another sip of his drink. “Guess it’s obvious when a dockworker uses the word noble, isn’t it? But what about Megatron? What about doing that with the ‘Decepticons’?”</p><p><br/>
“Well… you’ve seen their expansion through criminal syndicates” Orion around swirling his drink about in its glass. “Megatron says he has them ‘under control’ but that doesn’t sound like a group trying to make the world a better place. I’m gonna be honest here, Dion, and you have to promise not to say this to anyone else.”</p><p><br/>
“I promise, Orion. No need for melodramatics.”</p><p><br/>
“I’m scared of what the “Decepticons” might actually be turning into…” </p>
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